


Somewhere With You

by imusuallyobsessed



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, Beach Town, F/M, Merlance, Mystery, On the Run, Rating May Change, aka: the high school beach town au, dyla, mysterious pasts, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:39:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8762650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imusuallyobsessed/pseuds/imusuallyobsessed
Summary: The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea.Felicity Smoak is on the run. She took a bus cross-country from Vegas to Star Beach, a tiny town on on the East Coast that's the summer and weekend getaway for Star City's rich and famous. There, she vows to lay low for a couple weeks and then move on. Her plan lasts for about twenty minutes, until she meets John Diggle.Then, her already shaky plan goes to hell when she meets Oliver Queen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AAYYYYY new fanfiction! This has been called the "high school beach town (mystery aspect of the story I can't tell you right now) AU" in my head for so long, but it finally has a name! New tags will be added as the story progresses, but I'm not keeping anything traumatic from anyone! No fear. I mean, it's sad, but it's nothing to archive warning about!
> 
> No posting schedule, because I have a true life job, am job hunting, and writing an original novel! (I'll keep you posted on it. It's in second-round edits right now. Yay!) But I will do my best to upload every week or two.
> 
> (Awkwardly pretends I haven't updated Dr. Merlyn, MD since May.)
> 
> I have like four other fic ideas (sorry Dr. Merlyn) but this one just jumped out at me and the plot formed like a crazy cloud of insanity that wouldn't leave me alone.
> 
> This fic is based on a song called ["Somewhere With You"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n56hFE9Aquc) by Kenny Chesney.

John Diggle was a smart man. That was a fact that often surprised people, though he didn’t know why. Not only had he survived three tours in Afghanistan, but he went to college on the G.I. Bill and graduated in three years with a degree in business. He then used that degree to open the wildly successful coffee shop the Daily Grind at Star Beach. He prided himself on the fact that local residents all came to his shop instead of the money-grubbing, corporate black hole Starbucks in the city.

But yes, he was smart. Not just smart enough to open his own business and make enough to save plenty, but also smart enough to be able to read other people and situations. That skill was developed and honed during his three tours with the army.

That was how he knew something was wrong with the young woman in his shop.

It was a rare time of day when no one else was in the shop. Usually there were local moms, other business owners popping in for a break from their own shops, kids cutting school, or tourists. But it was September, the tourist season barely over, and the only other person in John’s shop was a young woman.

She was trying to make herself look older, but John would’ve put her age at fifteen or sixteen. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail that had seen better days and her ripped black jeans and baggy hoodie were rumpled, indicating she’d been traveling for a few days in that same outfit. A large, obviously heavy grey canvas messenger bag was slung across her body, weighing down her small frame. Her face was pale and drawn, the skin pulled taut over bones and muscles.

It was her eyes that told her story. They were big and blue behind two-toned glasses, staring at the community bulletin board near the front of his shop with a heart-wrenching mix of desperation, lingering panic, and fear. Even from his distance, he could tell her eyes were lingering over rental places.

Before he’d even had a coherent thought on the subject, he already knew he was going to help this girl.

“Anything I can do for ya?” John asked, forcing himself not to react when the girl startled violently and turned big, fearful eyes his way. “We’ve got some pastries left over from the morning that should still taste pretty fresh, and my coffee is to die for.”

The fear in her eyes faded a little bit, but her body was still tense as she leaned almost unconsciously toward the door, like a wild animal deciding whether to bolt.

Like with all wild things, John knew he simply had to be calm and coaxing.

“You’d be doing me a favor, really. The after-school crowd usually wants something more hearty than chocolate croissants or mint chocolate chip cupcakes,” he went on, continuing to clean coffee mugs and keep his posture relaxed. He knew that any sudden movements would send this girl running and she very obviously needed some help.

“Their loss,” she murmured before closing her mouth with an audible _click_ like she hadn’t actually meant to say anything at all.

“Exactly,” John agreed, secretly pleased he’d gotten the girl to talk. Her likelihood of staying now was much higher and he didn’t worry so much about the kind of trouble she could get into out on the streets alone. Star Beach was a safe place, but the city wasn’t far and sometimes the mischief-makers bled over into the quiet beach town.

There was just something about this girl that made him uncomfortable at the thought of her dealing with whatever problems she was facing alone.

She was standing in the same place, obviously fighting with herself about staying, and John continued to calmly wash mugs. He knew if he pressured her, she’d be gone before he could look up.

His instincts had always been impeccable.

“A cupcake sounds good,” she murmured, her voice barely carrying across the small coffee shop.

John gestured to one of the tables closest to the counter. “Take a seat. Anything to drink?” he offered, knowing there was the distinct bite of fall in the air here on the east coast. She barely looked big enough to regulate her own body temperature, even in the hoodie.

“Oh, I couldn’t. I…”

“On the house. I insist.”

John could tell she wanted to refuse, but just then her stomach let out a mighty growl like it hadn’t been fed in days. From the look of her, that was probably true.

He smiled, gesturing to the table again. “Come on. Take a seat. A cupcake and a coffee won’t put me in the red,” he said.

She nodded tentatively and moved closer, sitting down gingerly on the wooden chair like she was ready to sprint out of the shop at a moment’s notice.

John suddenly realized why he’d chosen to help her so easily despite knowing nothing about her. Somehow, his mind had superimposed his own daughter over the image of the blonde. They didn’t look alike and Andrea was still a toddler, but John instantly knew that if his daughter ever ended up in the same position as this girl, he’d want someone to help her.

“I’m John, but call me Digg. Everyone does,” he said as he sat the last of the mint chocolate chip cupcakes in front of the young woman.

Her eyes were huge, gazing at the cupcake like it was manna in the desert, but she blinked up at him without touching it and asked. “If your name is John, why would anyone call you Digg?” she asked before biting her chapped bottom lip, like she wanted to say more but refused to let the words out of her mouth.

He laughed a little and went back behind the bar to make her coffee, employing the age-old tactic of dangle and retreat. She was much more likely to eat if he wasn’t staring at her, and from the look of her she definitely needed food.

“I guess, out of context, that makes a lot of sense. My last name is Diggle. So everyone just calls me Digg,” he corrected, making her a big cup of his house blend. There was cream and sugar at the table if she wanted to dress it.

There was a brief silence from the girl before she said, “John Diggle. What a name. I don’t think I’ve ever heard one quite like that before, and I grew up around some crazy names.”

John returned to the table with her coffee. “So, you know my name. What can I call you?” he asked, pointedly not meeting her eyes, not asking for her name, and pretending not to notice the way she stiffened and her eyes darted to the door.

He went back behind the counter and started to make a grilled chicken, buffalo mozzarella, and pesto grilled cheese with his house marinara sauce. Cupcakes were good and all, but John suspected this girl had gone days without food and needed actual sustenance.

After a long silence in which John had to glance over his shoulder to confirm she hadn’t fled, she answered quietly, “Felicity. Just call me Felicity.”

“Okay, Just Felicity,” he said easily. He briefly worried this girl might be a fugitive of some kind, but he just didn’t get that feeling from her. There was something both trusting and trustworthy about her.

John let Felicity eat the cupcake and savor her coffee as he finished the sandwich. A few quiet minutes later, he swapped out the empty cupcake plate for a new one with the aromatic, melty sandwich on it.

Her blue eyes went wide and she fixed her gaze on the sandwich with even more intensity than she had on the cupcake. Despite that, she didn’t move.

“What this?” she asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the food.

“One of my specialties. Chicken, buffalo mozzarella, and homemade pesto grilled cheese with house-made marinara sauce. I’ve been told it’s criminal to let them go to waste,” he said, taking the dirty plate behind the counter and bringing back a coffee for himself and a big glass of water and another coffee for Felicity. She still hadn’t touched the food.

“You can eat it,” he said as he sat down, setting the drinks on the wooden table. “I made it for you.”

“Why?”

There was such a wealth in that word that broke John’s heart.

“Because you’re hungry.”

“So?”

John tilted his head, observing the slightly desperate mistrust and confusion on the young woman’s face and drawing a few too many heartbreaking conclusions.

“I have food. You need to eat.”

“I can pay you,” she insisted, eyes darting to the over-stuffed messenger bag that was still slung over her shoulder. She hadn’t taken it off when she sat down.

“I’m sure you can,” he said, purposefully keeping himself calm and unruffled. “But you’d just be insulting me. I offered you food on the house. I wouldn’t take money for it now, even if you tried.”

After a brief battle of wills, where John was actually getting nervous this girl might cut off her nose to spite her face, Felicity finally reached for the sandwich and took a bite with her wary blue eyes still holding his.

Until the flavors hit her tongue, of course. “Oh _frack_ ,” she groaned, her eyes sliding shut to properly savor the taste. “This is _amazing_.”

John knew his food was good, but he also knew this girl probably hadn’t eaten in several days. Still, a compliment was a compliment. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said with a grin. Even after four years at this, he still got a satisfaction unlike any other from making other people happy with his food.

His wife and daughter were his favorite things in the world, but feeding people was a close third. It was something he’d only discovered after his last tour in Afghanistan and it helped him adjust to civilian life.

John had a million questions, but doubted Felicity would answer any of them. So, he went for something a little easier.

“What were you looking at over there?” he asked, nodding toward the community bulletin board. There was everything ranging from missing pets, tutors offering their services, babysitters, dog-walkers, and advertisements for community events. John wasn’t too strict about what he allowed up there as long as it wasn’t targeting, hurtful, or degrading.

“A rental place,” Felicity managed to say between bites of sandwich.

John ran through a mental checklist of the rentals he knew were displayed on the board and his mouth spoke without proper permission from his brain, “You can stay at my family’s rental place.”

Instantly Felicity was shaking her head. “No, I couldn’t possibly. You’ve done so much for me already. I just need a place to stay for a week or two while I – well, just for a week or two,” she finished lamely, taking another big bite of her sandwich as if to keep herself from saying more.

He didn’t know what possessed him to offer the rental cottage on he and Lyla’s to the girl without first consulting his wife, but he thought about the other people she could rent from and knew they’d charge her as much as they could. It was the off season, but Felicity was obviously desperate for a place to stay.

“Trust me, they’ll all charge you through the nose to make as much money as they can in the off season. I’ll charge you a fair rate. Also, if you don’t feel like that’s enough, I’m sure my wife would love to recruit you for babysitting. She’s always complaining that we don’t get out of the house enough just the two of us,” he explained, trying to understand why he wanted to help this girl so badly. Yes, she reminded him a bit of Andrea, but there was just something about her. There was a light in her, faint and trembling as it was, and John wanted to do whatever he could to help her keep it. He hoped Lyla saw it too, or he’d be in the dog house for quite a while and Felicity would probably be back on the streets. Not that Lyla would kick out a young girl in obvious need, but Felicity seemed the type not to stay where she wasn’t expressly wanted.

“You’d trust me with your kid?”

John smiled. “Well, you’re not a criminal, are you?” he asked.

Felicity vehemently shook her head, her wide blue eyes pleading for him to believe her like it was the most important thing she’d ever needed to convey.

“That’s the only deal breaker,” he finished with a little laugh.

Felicity stared at him for a few moments, her blue eyes big and mournful. Like she knew a thousand things he didn’t, and had no intention of telling him any of them.

“Okay, but I’m paying rent. How much?” she said, steely blue eyes firmly fixed on his. She’d even put the remaining part of the sandwich down. This meant a lot to her.

Digg considered it for a moment, wondering what would be fair enough she wouldn’t suspect he was going easy on her, but also within whatever meager budget she probably had. Then again, there would be wads of hundred dollar bills in her bag.

“How about a hundred bucks a week? You can pay at the beginning of every week until you’re ready to leave,” he offered, meeting her steady gaze with one of his own.

Felicity contemplated the offer for a few moments before she nodded. “Sounds fair,” she said, holding her hand out over the table. Her fingers were short and thin, tipped with nails covered in chipped black polish. Still, when Digg shook her head, he felt the strength in her grip.

“You haven’t even seen the place yet,” Digg said, more out of curiosity than actual protest.

Felicity shrugged, her hand still out. “In this town? I know I’m not gonna get a better offer than that,” she explained, her eyes unwavering.

It was true. Star Beach was mostly the families of the rich people in Star City who didn’t want the city life to corrupt their sweet, angelic, spoiled, trust-fund children. It was close enough to the city that the rich, well-to-do parents could go to work during the week, leaving their children in the capable hands of nannies, au pairs or housekeepers, and come spend the weekends with them. That made rent – and everything else – pretty expensive.

“Deal?” Felicity prodded, moving her hand which was still stretched out for him to take.

Digg shook her hand over the remnants of her sandwich and coffee. “Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're meeting Oliver this chapter! Don't lie, I know this is what you were all waiting for. I hope you didn't think I'd keep you waiting for long. Honestly, about 3 chapters is the farthest I'll read in a fic if the mains haven't met yet, and then I just throw in the towel. I came for my OTP, and if I don't get it then I _will_ leave.
> 
> Thankfully, you don't have to shout at me and leave because here, in this very chapter, everyone's favorite OTP will meet for the first time. As well as some other people, but let's be real. They're not as important.

Despite everything Felicity had been through, she was still shocked how much her life could change in a week.

Last Friday, she was hopping off a Greyhound bus in the most obscure-sounding place she’d seen so far. She was hungry, scared and desperate for a place to stay. Now, she was just scared. Not the present, pounding fear that had been her companion on the too-long bus ride across the country, but the kind that’s like the TV in the background while she folds laundry or paints her nails.

The bright colors are still new, but she finds herself liking them more and more every day. And the blonde, ponytail-ed hair. Her Daily Grind uniform – a dark green shirt with the logo, matching hat, jeans, and sneakers – was also new, and slightly less enjoyable, but she found herself easing into a place in Star Beach.

Exactly one week later, she officially worked her first solo shift at the Daily Grind. Well, her first solo shift without Digg. Sin was still there, but that’s because she and Digg found out very quickly that the kitchen and all things it contained (i.e. – food, appliances, etc.) had a personal vendetta against Felicity. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t cook. It was that every time she went into the kitchen with the intention to re-create one of Digg and Sin’s genius recipes, disaster struck. _Every time_.

Felicity took the blame for most of them, but she maintained that the raccoons were beyond even the realm of her kitchen curse.

Either way, she manned the front of the house while Sin handled the kitchen, and everything ran smoothly. The morning rush had been a lot without Digg, but not for the expected reason. Handling food orders and multiple people talking at her was a walk in the park for her. Felicity’s strength and weakness was in her brain’s ability to go in a million different directions at once.

No, it was hard because of the people. It seemed like everyone in Star Beach went to the Daily Grind for their morning coffee, from students to parents to local business people. Every single time the door chimed, Felicity flinched – just a little – and immediately had to look and see who’d just entered. It was never who she feared, though, so she could relax.

Felicity had bought herself time. _He_ wouldn’t be able to find her so quickly, especially with how low a profile she was keeping.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

She paid Digg and Lyla her laughably cheap rent in cash, made all transactions in cash, and only used the burner phone she bought at a rest stop in Nebraska for absolute emergencies.

Digg even paid her in cash, which he’d done without her even having to ask. Because Felicity _hadn’t_ asked to get paid. She hadn’t even asked for a job. Digg had done enough for her and she didn’t expect anything else.

Until he’d offered her one at dinner the other night.

When she first moved into the guest house – _temporarily_ , she had to remember it was temporary – she spent the first twenty-four hours inside. The view of the empty, grey-autumn beach was gorgeous, new and kept her transfixed, which helped keep her mind off the fact that she couldn’t risk getting on the internet yet. TV only intrigued her so far without her Netflix queue.

The beach cottage was adorable and about a ten-minute walk from the Diggle’s home. It was painted pale, faded blue with white shutters and trim. If Felicity had to imagine a quintessential beach cottage in the northeast, this was exactly what she would’ve thought up.

On the second night, after a whole day of silence, Digg had showed up at her door and said Lyla wanted to meet Felicity, so the his wife had invited her to dinner.

Felicity was hesitant to accept as the couple had already done so much for her, but Digg shrugged and said Lyla had already started cooking. _‘You wouldn’t want us to waste all that food, would you, Felicity?’_

So, she’d agreed. And met Lyla Michaels-Diggle and Andrea Diggle. Both seemed to like her, which was a relief. Well, Andrea was a toddler and liked anyone who would smile at and play with her, but it was still a good thing in Felicity’s book that Digg’s daughter liked her.

Lyla, she was more nervous about, but Felicity was pleasantly surprised. Though the woman was initially intimidating, she had a warm, frank personality that immediately drew Felicity in. She was concerned and caring without being overbearing, somehow sensing what Felicity would and wouldn’t accept from them. That night, feasting on chicken parmesan, spaghetti and salad, Felicity smiled for the first time since her ordeal began. Truthfully, it had probably been longer than that.

Conversation was light and easy, sticking to how Felicity liked the cottage and the beach, if there was anything specific she wanted to do or shops she wanted to see. They even unironically discussed the weather.

Felicity should’ve known they were softening her up for something.

It started innocently enough. Lyla mentioned how she wished “Johnny” had more time off to spend with herself and Andrea. Digg jumped in, saying he hadn’t found anyone he wanted to help him and Sin in the shop yet. (That was when she learned about Sin, Digg’s sous-chef who usually ran the front of the house despite her prickly personality.) Lyla had turned her innocent green eyes on to Felicity and asked if she didn’t mind helping Johnny at the shop? Just until she leaves, of course.

Felicity initially refused, not wanting to accept any more help from the Diggle’s. Owing people was a danger she’d learned firsthand. She had enough cash to stay in Star Beach for a couple weeks – if she only ate ramen or macaroni and cheese – and then she’d be gone before anyone could remember her.

But Lyla had shaken her head, and Digg insisted _she_ would be doing _him_ a favor. _‘You’d be doing me a huge favor, Felicity. I really want to spend more time with Andrea while she still thinks I’m the best guy in the world.’_

How the frack was Felicity supposed to say no to that? She was only human. And even Andrea, the scheming little toddler, had turned her big, brown eyes on to her new friend and blinked a few times, practically begging to spend more time with her dad. Felicity knew logically that the little girl had no idea what they were talking about, but she swore she saw something in the little girl’s eyes.

So, she’d agreed. They hadn’t discussed pay, but Felicity assumed she’d be working in exchange for the steep discount she knew they’d given her on rent, or for food or something, since Lyla flat out insisted when she left dinner to take some leftovers, and never be a stranger if she needed anything. There was a knowing look in the woman’s eyes, like she knew about Felicity’s ramen- and macaroni-filled future. So, Felicity decided she’d work at the Daily Grind in exchange for room, board, and food. It seemed more than fair to her.

Then, at the end of her first day, Digg handed her a wad of cash.

_‘What’s this for?’_

_‘Pay for today,’ Digg responded, calmly cleaning dishes like paying random girls under the table who mysteriously showed up in his coffee shop was an everyday occurrence and Felicity was the weird one for thinking it strange._

_‘I can’t take this. I assumed I was working for that huge discount I know you gave me on the cottage or all the food Lyla basically promised to give me while I was here or – ’_

_‘I’m not taking the money back, so it’s better if you just keep it so we can avoid an argument,’ he cut her off, shrugging and not even looking up from his task._

Felicity was proud. She considered it a virtue and not a flaw. She’d made it far in life on her own, and just because her future was temporarily derailed didn’t mean she couldn’t make it even further under her own power. Felicity didn’t _want_ to accept help from anyone.

But, the way Digg did it was different. He made it abundantly obvious she didn’t owe him anything, and he was only helping her because it was the right thing to do.

That wasn’t something Felicity was familiar with. But every day she stayed in the Diggle’s cottage and worked at the Daily Grind, it was a little easier. She’d already watched Andrea for a few hours while Lyla and Digg went out to dinner, mostly just sitting with the little girl while she played with Legos in front of _Frozen_ and _Tangled_ , but inside she there was an unfamiliar warm, fizzy feeling. Which made her sound like a coke left in the sun for too long, but that wasn’t the feeling. Obviously.

She’d absolutely refused to take any money for babysitting Andrea, but hadn’t been able to resist the slice of seven-layer chocolate cake they’d brought back for her. Food as payment was almost just as good.

So now, here she was, a week since coming to town and just a little more since her world had come crashing down, working the cash register and coffee machines at the Daily Grind.

Things were hectic but ran smooth. Digg had an efficient system in place. These were the same people – for the most part – who’d been coming every day for a week and they mostly had a usual.

Things were smooth, of course, until a crowd Felicity hadn’t seen before came in.

Sin explained earlier in the day that a group of high schoolers at Star Beach Academy had been in the city all week on a business immersion thing, which was why there had only been a few trickling in all week. But they came back today.

She knew their names and stories from Sin, but she didn’t realize how sorely unprepared she’d been until they burst into the Daily Grind.

And burst they did. The first one in was a tall, lanky boy with black hair that stuck up in the fashionable way boys so loved these days. His eyes were bright blue and sparkling with mischief as they swept through the shop before resting on her with a sort of manic delight that surprised Felicity. Her mind scrambled to place him, but as soon as the second boy entered, she knew the first one had to be Tommy Merlyn.

Because Tommy Merlyn and Oliver Queen were always together, and the second boy was obviously Oliver Queen.

He was taller than Tommy with the same stuck-up hair style, but shorter and dark blonde. Blue eyes swept the room, resting on everyone in the room for a moment before going to rest fully on his friend. Despite being in high school, he somehow had perfectly-groomed scruff. His entire posture was perfected down to the inch: lazy, bored and looking for trouble. Somehow, Felicity knew on sight that it was rehearsed. Then again, maybe it wasn’t so surprising. She saw artifice every time she looked in the mirror.

“Good afternoon, beautiful,” Tommy crooned, leaning on the counter and getting closer than any other customer so far. Felicity leaned back, almost jerking at the unexpected breach of her personal space. Oliver had been more distracting than she thought.

“Woah, sorry,” he continued, a tiny touch of concern in his expression. Immediately, he stood up straight and gave Felicity a little room. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” she insisted, putting on her best customer-service smile and resting her fingers on the cash register. “I was just… lost I thought. Daydreaming. I mean, obviously, I was paying attention because I’m working, I just… What can I get for you?”

She’d managed to stave off too much babble, but now she just looked insane and tongue-tied. Oh, well. She was used to standing out among her peers for a variety of reasons.

Instead of walking away very quickly with a pitying expression, Tommy just grinned again, immediately back in the troublesome mood he’d obviously been in when he entered the coffee shop, and leaned slightly on the counter again. Still further away than the first time, though, which Felicity was thankful for. She didn’t realize how much distance she’d been keeping from the people around her until now.

“How about your number? I’ve never seen you around before. I could give you a tour,” he offered with an exaggerated wink.

Felicity sucked her lips into her mouth to hold back a laugh at his over-the-top-ness. Despite the repeated come-ons, Felicity didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. Tommy’s entire demeanor was playful and relaxed, not predatory or threatening. It was a nice change from Vegas.

“Leave her alone, Merlyn,” a statuesque, gorgeous brunette said as she came up beside Tommy and gently pulled him back from the counter. “Flirting with girls who have to be nice to you to keep their jobs? I’m surprised you’ve stooped so low.”

Her words were serious, but her tone was light and teasing. Obviously, they were friends.

Tommy turned big, hurt blue eyes back to Felicity and blinked a few times, “You’re not being nice to me just because you have to, right?”

Felicity shrugged, a huge smile on her face now. “I wasn’t gonna say anything…”

Tommy put a hand on his chest and shook his head. “Shot through the heart. You wound me, Felicity,” he said, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face either.

Felicity started when he knew her name, her mind immediately running to the worst-case scenario. Had she been found? Discovered? Her trail was untraceable, she made sure of that. So how…?

Oh. Her nametag. He knew her name because it was on her nametag.

 _Deep breaths, Felicity_.

“I can get you coffee or a pastry, but unfortunately my number is off the table,” she said quickly, ready to get these orders processed so she could go calm her racing heart in the kitchen with Sin for a few minutes.

“Even for a friend?” a new voice asked, accompanied by a smaller, fit girl with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. This girl looked closer to her own age than the brunette.

Felicity tilted her head. “We’re not… Do I know you?” Had she met someone and forgotten? With how little genuine human interaction she had, she didn’t know if that was possible.

The girl shook her head and held out her hand. “Nope, but I know you’re new. I’m Sara Lance, this one’s little sister,” she said, nudging the beautiful brunette with her shoulder without taking her eyes off Felicity. “And the grapevine says you’ve barely left the house you’re renting or this shop, and that’s a damn shame. So, let’s be friends and you’re invited to our next bonfire on the beach. I’ll show you around and not try to get in your pants.”

“At least, not at first,” Tommy muttered, rolling his eyes at Sara who shoving him with her shoulder without looking away from Felicity.

Felicity took Sara’s hand and shook, feeling like she was a few steps behind. That was new for her. “Um… Okay?” she responded, grinning helplessly when Sara beamed at her.

“Perfect!” she said, giving her phone to Felicity. “Put your number in and I’ll text you. That way Tommy won’t get it and harass you.”

“I do not _harass_ people,” Tommy insisted.

Felicity raised her eyebrow. “Then what do you call this?” she teased, gesturing between the two of them.

He threw his hands in the air and walked over to where Oliver and a few other people were sitting. “I don’t have to take this abuse!” he declared. “Laurel, you know my order.”

Once he was out of earshot, the brunette – Laurel, Felicity assumed – rolled her eyes. “So much drama,” she murmured, before quickly putting in orders for a cardamom latte, a black pumpkin coffee, almond scone, and one of Digg’s famous grilled cheeses.

“You love him,” Sara teased.

Laurel blushed, her entire face turning red, and she stuck her tongue out at her sister. “I do _not_ ,” she insisted, seeming to completely forget about Felicity and her order for a moment while she defended her lack of affection for Tommy.

Felicity completed the order and gave Laurel the number. With a “thank you” and a warm smile, the brunette left and went back to her friends. Sara stayed, though, texting Felicity so she’d have her number.

“It’ll be so nice to have someone my age around,” Sara said, still typing furiously on her phone. “I’m always surrounded by seniors and it can get annoying when they start talking about how scared they are to graduate. Like, they get to get out of this hellhole and finally go somewhere exciting. How terrible for them.”

Felicity did her best not to panic. This was her first real test of her cover story and she had to get it right. “Actually, I’m nineteen. I already graduated,” she said easily, like she wasn’t pretending to be three years older than she actually was. The graduation thing was true, though.

Sara looked up from her phone, startled for a moment before quick blue eyes assessed Felicity. She did everything in her power not to fidget under that gaze until Sara’s eyes finally came back to hers.

“My bad,” the other blonde said with a shrug and Felicity did her best not to sag in relief. “But still, you seem chill. And now you can help me study! Do you remember how to do chemistry? My dad’s pissed ‘cause I have a D and it’s only like two months into the semester. It’s just so _boring_.”

That was _definitely_ something she could help with.

“Sure,” she agreed with a smile.

Sara smiled back before placing her order and going back to the friend group with an “I’ll text you!” tossed over her shoulder.

With everyone in the shop taken care of, Felicity retreated to the kitchen for a few minutes and chatted with Sin, still a little shaken by the whole interaction. The other girl thought it was hilarious that her staunch insistence on a low profile was shot to hell in a matter of minutes. Felicity hadn’t even thought about that, so she gave herself a few moments to panic and reassure herself that she could keep a low profile before going back to the cash register.

Where someone was waiting.

Where Oliver Queen was waiting.

Felicity was a smart girl. Before this whirlwind trip, she spent her days coding, reading, or crunching numbers with her mom to make ends meet. She had a few friends and there had been a few boys who’d wanted to tangle with the goth girl. She certainly hadn’t been _lonely_.

But Oliver was a special kind of distractingly hot.

“What can I get for you?” Felicity asked, putting on a bright smile that said _‘tip me, tip me.’_

Oliver looked up from where he’d been playing with his phone and smiled.

Woah.

 _Distracting_.

Oh, he was saying something.

“ – so anyway, I guess I just wanted to apologize.”

Without thinking, Felicity tilted her head and asked, “Apologize for what?” Obviously, he’d already said, but she missed it. Because of the smiling and general attractiveness.

To his credit, he just paused a second and repeated, “For them,” he explained, gesturing back to his loud, laughing friends. “They can be a handful, but they’re pretty great. But you don’t have to hang out with us or whatever if you don’t want.”

This was unexpected. Instead of the arrogant, devil-may-care persona he had when he first walked in, Oliver was looking at her with a genuine expression. It was… intriguing.

_Oh, no, Smoak._

She knew the danger of turning people into mysteries to be solved.

And yet…

“It’s fine,” she said, ignoring how breathy her voice sounded. “Tommy’s harmless. And Sara’s nice. Laurel too, I guess, we didn’t really talk as much.”

“Yeah, Sara said she got your number,” he said, looking at her from under his lashes for a moment before continuing, “You should totally come to our next bonfire. There’s not much else to do around here, and… You should just come. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

Felicity tilted her head to the other side and smiled, a laugh tumbling out of her mouth quite without her permission. It was nice not being the tongue-tied one for once. “I’d love to come. Just have Sara text me,” she said.

“Yeah, okay. I mean I could… but yeah, Sara can text you,” Oliver said in a rush, his eyes on her as they lapsed into silence.

“So… are you going to order?” she asked, gesturing awkwardly to the cash register.

Oliver jumped, like he just realized he’d been staring. “Yeah, yeah, uh…”

Once he ordered and Felicity gave him a number, he went back to his friends. Sara said something to him that must’ve been embarrassing, because his suddenly started rubbing the back of his head and looking over his shoulder at her. Tommy smacked his arm and Laurel laughed, also glancing her way before looking back at Oliver.

Felicity had no idea what they were talking about, but she had a job to do and there was no point dwelling on boys too handsome for their own good.

When she turned back to the kitchen to check on Sin, the girl was already in the door, glancing between Oliver and Felicity.

“What’s that all about?” she asked, raising one black eyebrow. Felicity stammered, opening and closing her mouth like a fish, before Sin shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I don’t even want to know, Blondie.”

XXX

Later that night, Felicity was cleaning up the shop and prepping for close with Sin. It was still early, but the Daily Grind closed at six p.m. on weekdays. There was about half an hour until then, but the shop was mostly empty and she and Sin wanted to close early. Digg said he was making his famous chili for dinner and invited both girls over to enjoy it.

Felicity was mostly goofing off with Sin in the kitchen, procrastinating wiping down tables until the other girl shooed her with a dish rag.

With an eyeroll and groan, Felicity took a bucket of soapy water and some clean rags to the front. As soon as she stepped into the dining area, she saw something curious.

Well, it wasn’t the _what_ so much as the _who_.

People studied at the Grind all the time. It was a common hangout for younger people, and every weekday those young people had homework to do. Coffee shops definitely had the best atmosphere for studying, in her opinion, and that sentiment was obviously shared by the student body of Star Beach Prep.

Felicity just never would’ve bet on Oliver Queen being one of them.

Sin had told her all the sordid rumors about Oliver. Renting out the Rockets stadium in Star City to “play football” with the entire cheerleading squad, peeing on a cop car, punching various paparazzi, and generally coasting through life on his good looks, charm, and a hefty pay-off from the Queen family fortune. Never did studying or academia factor in to Sin’s tales of the illustrious billionaire playboy who ruled the beach.

Yet there he was, unarguably studying hard in the corner of the Grind. He had two textbooks open in front of him while he scrawled notes in a well-used notebook. His eyebrows were scrunched together and – most adorably – his tongue was peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

Her feet took her to him and before Felicity even realized what was happening, she opened her mouth and asked, “Studying hard?”

Oliver jumped, flinging his pen into the air. He managed to catch it after a few fumbles, and looked up at her with the last vestiges of a confident expression he could manage while blushing fire-engine red.

“Um… Yeah, I guess you caught me,” he said, flashing a brief smile as he rubbed the back of his neck like he felt awkward.

Felicity tilted her head. “Is studying a crime?” she asked, scrunching her nose.

Oliver sighed, putting his elbows back on the table and muttering, “For me, it might as well be.”

Felicity furrowed her brows. Hey, they were matching! “Why is that? To the rest of the world, studying is a necessary evil,” she commented. Of course, it hadn’t been for her. Felicity had _loved_ studying. Even as a teenager, she pursued new knowledge with dogged determination.

Not so much anymore, unfortunately, but things were starting to look up in Star Beach.

“It’s just that… Well, I…”

Felicity waited patiently, the rags and cleaning bucket all but forgotten as she waited for Oliver to explain. He didn’t have to, of course, but she was extremely interested in whatever he was about to say next.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” he finally asked, looking up at her with his beautiful blue eyes. Instead of light and happy like they were earlier in the day, they were clouded and worried, obviously fearing judgement.

“Of course, not,” Felicity promised. “I’d never laugh at someone for studying. Pursuit of knowledge should be applauded. When I was a kid, I – ”

“I want to go to Stanford.”

Felicity snapped her mouth shut, thankful that Oliver’s outburst had stopped the flow of words. She hadn’t babbled since she arrived in Star Beach, and it wouldn’t do to start blurting anecdotes about her real past to random people in the shop.

But wait, what?

“That’s great! Stanford’s an amazing school. I’m partial to MIT, but to each their own. Why shouldn’t I tell anyone, by the way?” she babbled, letting the flow of words cover up the small revelation she hadn’t meant to share. Her MIT dreams were… derailed, but hopefully that was temporary. Despite everything that happened, Felicity still dreamed of a future beyond running.

Oliver looked like he was struggling for words. “You’re new here, so you don’t get it, but… I’m sure Sin’s told you that Oliver Queen and academic achievement don’t exactly go hand in hand,” he said, glancing from the kitchen entrance and back to her.

Felicity scoffed and bit her lip, trying not to look obvious. Also, how weird was it that he was talking about himself in the third person? “What? No…”

Oliver laughed, a little sparkle coming back to his eyes. “You don’t have to lie. I know what people say about me. Hell, half the time _I’m_ saying it about me. It’s just that, some stuff has been going on lately and I’ve made a few changes in my life. I want to go to Stanford and get a degree and make something of myself, but…”

Once again, it seemed like Oliver was struggling for words so Felicity nodded and made an intuitive leap. “You want to do it on your own merit. You don’t have to tell people and have your parents smoothing the path for you,” she guessed, smiling a little when Oliver looked at her, stunned. “It’s not totally far-fetched. And it’s really admirable, Oliver.”

“Yeah…” he murmured, staring at her for a moment like he couldn’t believe she was real. Or that’s what she thought he might be thinking. She’d never really had a boy stare at her the way Oliver was.

“But I also don’t want people laughing at me. Saying I can’t do it. I’ve never really tried until now, and except for a few things I’m actually doing pretty well,” he continued, a small, vulnerable smile on his face.

Felicity returned it with a huge grin. “Well, I’m sure no one would make fun of you, but it’s your life. If you need any help from someone who’d never laugh, I actually did really well in school. I’d be happy to help,” she said.

She turned to walk away, but Oliver reached out and gently took her wrist before she could take a step. “Do you really mean that?” he asked, his eyes serious. When she nodded, he grinned. “Perfect. Because I’m doing pretty well in everything except calculus and physics. I don’t even know why I signed up for physics, because I’m probably going to get a degree in business and it’s dragging my GPA down.”

Felicity smiled back, a bit devious this time. “It’s your lucky day, mister. I happen to be excellent at calculus and physics,” she declared.

“Really?” Oliver sighed with relief. “That’s perfect. Would you be my tutor? I’ll pay you. If you can help me pull my grades up to Stanford level, I’ll owe you big time.”

Felicity had to remind herself that his relief and smiles were definitely, one hundred percent for his grades. As much as she’d enjoy spending more time around him, he was probably just happy he was going to get into Stanford. No need to make it something it wasn’t.

But that smile directed at her was really nice.

“Yeah, of course. We can talk about that later,” Felicity said.

Oliver quickly handed her his phone. It was the newest smartphone and an absolutely gorgeous piece of tech. Felicity forced herself not to salivate over it. Wow, she missed technology. “Put your number in and I’ll text you,” he said.

Felicity quickly complied, mentally noting that this was the third person – after Digg and Sara – to have her originally secure and secret burner phone number.

 _Oh, well. It’s not like_ he’ll _be able to find me this way_.

“Great,” Oliver said with a smile when Felicity gave the phone back. _It’s for the grades. Not you, the grades_. “I’ll just get out of your hair now so you and Sin can close.”

He did just that while Felicity began to clean tables. If she lingered near him as he packed his things, noticing the muscles rippling under his clothes and his gorgeous face, well, she was only human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I TRIED to make Oliver a fratty douche, but I just couldn't. Any world in which he isn't 100% in love with Felicity Smoak immediately isn't a world I want to write in. Aka: imusuallyobsessed can't write slowburn enemies to lovers or anything like that to save her life. I just want them to be in love already! So BAM. Immediate heart eyes for your viewing pleasure.
> 
> What did you think? Drop me a line and a kudo (I live on the validation of others) and head over to my Tumblr (same name) and bother me there! I love hearing from you guys!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta. I didn't even read this ONCE after I finished it. It's been so long, and I wanted to get a chapter out ASAP.
> 
> No excuses. Real life has been wild. I moved to New York City, I'm writing a book IRL, I have a job but am hunting for another one, and I'm also trying to function as a human being. Fanfiction is on the backburner. I'm finishing this fic, though, obviously. No worries! I don't abandon my stories.
> 
> Anyway, I once again attempted to give Oliver and Felicity any chill whatsoever when it came to each other, and failed. But I don't even count it as a failure, because this is what everyone wants. Including me. Oliver is awkward and adorable and so is Felicity and they're gonna fall in love, guys. Spoiler alert? There will be angst, but probably none of it will be emotional or in their relationship. It's all gonna be external factors. Get ready for some emotional stuff about Oliver re: Robert and Moira. All shall eventually be revealed with Felicity's past, but don't expect it anytime soon homies.
> 
> Get ready for: heart eyes, blushing, and hand holding.

Felicity ended up tutoring Oliver at the Daily Grind.

That wasn’t the original plan. They’d texted a few times – strictly about study sessions – and had decided to meet at the public library. He’d offered Queen Manor, but Felicity turned that down pretty quickly. It would be hard enough having to see his too handsome face three times a week to study. It would be even harder if it was in his home, surrounded by all the _Oliver-ness_. She briefly considered offering her place, but in the end didn’t even ask. She wasn’t ready to have anyone in her space yet. Especially not a guy like Oliver Queen. He was… magnetic. Someone far too easy to fall into.

But even from their brief meeting, he seemed different than how Sin described him. He was considerate and thoughtful, always asking her opinion on tutoring locations, times, and dates. He asked what her favorite coffee from the Daily Grind was, insisting he was going to bring one whenever they studied as additional thanks. He was funny and surprisingly sweet, occasionally asking questions that had nothing to do with studying and keeping Felicity texting on her burner phone late into the night. If Digg or Lyla noticed the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, they didn’t say anything. But Lyla _did_ give her a knowing look whenever Felicity’s phone went off at the table and her smiled at the screen.

Their plan to meet at the library was dashed by Digg.

Felicity had been at the Diggle’s for dinner, helping little Andrea with her pasta so Lyla could have a break. The couple had been talking about their days while Felicity made airplane noises to get Andrea to open her mouth wide enough to keep most the linguine carbonara sauce off her face.

“So, Felicity, how’s work been? Have the solo shifts been alright?” Lyla asked, her tone innocent and unassuming.

Felicity should’ve known the woman had something up her sleeve. She didn’t know what Lyla did for a living, but it involved the government and a floor-board hidey hole in the house. (Yeah, Felicity noticed things, too.)

“They’ve been great!” she said, turning to smile at the Diggle’s while Andrea contented herself with her sippy cup. “Sin’s been helpful and it feels good to be productive.”

It was only making coffee and selling pastries, but Felicity was happy to get out of the little seaside cottage and begin to grow into the sunny personality she’d tried to adopt with her blonde hair and bold colors.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying spending time with Sin. She can be so particular about people,” Lyla continued, her tone holding nothing but admiration and slight fondness for the girl who, if she’d met Felicity just a few weeks ago, would’ve looked much more alike to the now-blonde barista.

“Have you met anyone else?” Lyla continued, her eyes wide and innocent, luring Felicity into a false sense of security. “I just hate to think that you’re up in that cottage all day alone when you’re not working and Johnny and I are out.”

“Lyla,” Digg said, his tone low and a little chiding. They were usually very good about not pressuring Felicity to do anything she didn’t want. She had her reasons for wanting solitude, and before now they’d never asked.

Felicity shrugged, moving right past the moment. “A few people, yeah. Actually, I’m tutoring someone now. He offered to pay me, so it’ll be another way for me to get money. I’ll be out of your guest house in no time,” she said with a little smile, focusing again on Andrea. That was the goal, right? Leaving? Yet, for some reason, Felicity found the thought of leaving behind the little beach cottage – and the Diggle’s – unbearably sad.

“Oh, don’t rush out on our account. It’s been such an unexpected help having you around to help with Andrea and the shop,” Lyla rushed to say, completely sincere.

Felicity knew they didn’t mind having her, but her plan only worked if she kept moving. She’d already stayed in Star Beach longer than anticipated, but she had to admit it was nice to build up her savings a little. Even if those savings were stashed under her mattress and made her feel like Walter White.

“Who are you tutoring?” Digg asked.

If Felicity had been paying more attention, she would’ve heard the peculiar tone of his voice. If she hadn’t been distracted by Andrea successfully eating her own bite of pasta, she might’ve seen the pointed look Lyla sent her husband’s way.

But she didn’t, so she continued right on and said, “Oliver Queen.”

She kept on babbling about how she met him and caught him studying late into the night, their conversation, and more, but she didn’t realize Digg had already stopped listening.

“Oliver Queen?” he asked, his voice a little strangled.

Felicity finally noticed and looked away from Andrea, wiping her hands on her napkin before she tilted her head and said, “… Yeah?”

“That’s great,” Lyla said, jumping in immediately. Her eyes and tone were warm and happy. “We’re happy you’re making more friends. And getting the chance to use your intelligence. Right, sweetie?”

Felicity looked from Lyla to Digg, noticing the hard set of his jaw.

“And you’re meeting him at the public library?” Digg asked, ignoring Lyla’s comments.

Felicity shrugged and nodded.

“You know, why don’t you meet at the Daily Grind instead? I’ll even give him a discount on pastries or something. It’s important to keep your energy up when you’re studying,” he suggested, ignoring the pointed look Lyla was sending his way.

Felicity wasn’t sure what was going on, but decided to just go along with it.

“Oh… are you sure? I was going to suggest there, but I didn’t want to impose or overstep,” she ventured, wondering if she spoke slowly enough that the reason for Digg’s sudden tension and Lyla’s disapproving looks to her husband would explain themselves. Usually, she understood what was going on. Her mind was quick and sharp. She didn’t like being a step behind.

Digg nodded, his expression a little lighter than it was a few moments ago. “Of course, I’m sure. I’m working the afternoon shift, so I’ll hook you up. I assume you’re meeting him after school?” he asked, much more at ease than he had been since Felicity mentioned Oliver’s name.

Felicity nodded again, putting this strange discussion behind her until she could think about it at length. “Yeah, we’re meeting at 4 p.m. He said he would be earlier, but he has to take his sister home,” she explained. Her stomach did a weird twist-flip when she thought about Oliver taking care of his little sister instead of making one of his staff pick her up, but she refused to examine it. Whatever that feeling was, it couldn’t be good for her.

Now, the day had dawned. It was Monday afternoon, and she was about to tutor Oliver Queen.

It wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like he was famous or anything. Except in Star Beach, probably Star City too, he basically was.

But Felicity had grown up in Vegas, surrounded by more glitter and glamour than this tiny beach town could every throw at her. She’d be fine.

 _That’s the first time I’ve thought of Vegas since I left,_ she realized, blinking blankly at the notebook under her hands. Not all her memories of Vegas were painful. In fact, most of them weren’t. It’s just the more recent ones were the most horrific of her entire life.

“Sorry I’m late,” a new voice said, snapping her out of her reverie. Oliver plopped down into the booth beside her, pulling books out of his bag and starting to organize his materials.

Felicity shook her head to clear away the dark thoughts and glanced at her phone. “It’s 4:02. You’re hardly late,” she replied, looking up at him with a little smile. He seemed nervous for some reason, and Felicity did her best to put him at ease.

Oliver shook his head. “I should’ve been here when I said I would. Thea was just telling me this story about the school play and I didn’t want to interrupt her,” he explained.

Felicity shook her head again and said, “It’s really fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m not taking this seriously,” he insisted, turning to fully face her. His gorgeous blue eyes were wide and insist, and even if Felicity didn’t already believe him, she would’ve after that look.

She mirrored him, turning to face him too. “I know you’re taking this seriously,” she said, reaching out and taking his free hand on the table top.

They stared at each other for a few moments, and Felicity couldn’t tell what was happening. This was… _gazing_. She’d didn’t know how she was looking at him, but if it was anything like the way he was looking at her, she’d never looked at anyone else like this before.

A loud slam on the table made them jump apart, turning to face Digg with wide, innocent eyes.

“I brought coffee,” he said, looking very pointedly at Oliver, almost staring the younger man down, before looking back at Felicity. She followed his arms down and saw two mugs – one a regular black coffee and the other her favorite latte – in his hands. “I’ll bring by some leftovers later. Have fun studying, kids. Stay focused.”

Felicity let out a breathy laugh as Digg walked away, but Oliver looked almost afraid as his eyes followed Digg back to the cash register.

“Thanks to Digg, right? I’m definitely gonna need some caffeine,” she said, taking a big sip of her mint chocolate latte before smiling over at Oliver.

He laughed half-heartedly, taking a tiny sip of his black coffee. It must’ve been much hotter than hers, because his face screwed up and it looked like swallowing hurt.

“Are you okay? Do you need water?” she asked, glancing over at Digg. Felicity couldn’t decipher his expression, but it looked something like suppressed glee. What was that about?

Oliver shook his head, waving Felicity off. “No, no,” he choked out. “I’m fine.”

After a few moments, he seemed to be able to breathe normally and gestured towards his books. “Where do we start?” he asked.

Felicity laughed a little and adjusted her glasses, which had slipped down in the hot-coffee chaos. “I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to tell me?” she asked. When he gave her a slightly panicked look, Felicity corrected. “I mean, what are your problem areas? Like, academically. Obviously. What other problem areas would I be asking about? I’d sound like a physical therapist or something.”

Felicity forcibly clenched her teeth to stop the flow of words, blood rushing to her cheeks for the start of a fierce blush. Thankfully no one was sitting too close to them, though the café was moderately crowded. Oliver was bad enough, but she’d be mortified if anyone else heard.

But, instead of running away screaming about the crazy babbling girl, he laughed. Really, truly laughed. His entire face transformed with the expression, making his eyes glow with the expression of joy. Instead of being even more embarrassed, Felicity could somehow tell he wasn’t laughing _at her_ , which made it better.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, calming down and smiling at her. “I swear, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… I can’t remember the time I laughed that hard.”

“Well, I’m happy I could help… I guess,” she mumbled, composing herself before gesturing back to the textbooks. “So, what’s your worst subject?”

So, tutoring began. Once they got through his worst subjects (all of them), and if he had any tests coming up (10-page essay in English Lit and a calculus test), things went relatively smoothly. Felicity realized quickly that Oliver needed to be engaged in his learning experience or he got bored and distracted. He tried to sit still, but he’d fidget or look around. She started having him write out the things she dictated, making him write out the problems on paper and solve them himself. It wasn’t ideal, but she was already thinking about ways to help him learn better in a way he might actually enjoy.

Felicity was surprised that she actually had fun. She loved to learn, but it hadn’t been the subject matter she worried about. She was briefly worried in the days before that Oliver would transform into the person Sin told her about, but he never did. He was surprisingly self-deprecating, and much smarter than he gave himself credit for.

“What that?” Felicity asked, gesturing to a textbook he’d left in his backpack. They were nearing the end of studying for his calculus test and Felicity thought he’d finally gotten the hang of derivatives. She found that his biggest problem was reading comprehension and had a sneaking suspicion he might be dyslexic. However, that was a conversation for another day.

Oliver glanced at the book and dropped the most unexpected bomb when he said, “Oh, just my copy of _War and Peace_.”

He seemed almost embarrassed, and Felicity couldn’t fathom why. She loved to read and she’d hadn’t even tackled Tolstoy yet. Attempting _Infinite Jest_ last year had left her in an extended state of confusion and all she wanted to read were heartwarming teenage beach books.

“But it’s…” Felicity narrowed her eyes at the book again, leaning closer when Oliver subtly shifted to block her view. “It’s in _Russian_?”

That was, indeed, a question, since Felicity had no idea what the Russian alphabet looked like. Any language other than English and code, in fact, stumped her. She was a MENSA member, but even geniuses had limits.

Oliver nodded, running a hand over his hair. “Yeah,” he said, and then stopped there.

“Oh, no,” she said, turning in the booth to fully face him. “You’re not getting away from explaining this with a _yeah_. Does Star Beach Prep even offer Russian? And why do you act like you’re not smart? You’re reading a novel in a foreign language! That’s _really_ smart, Oliver! I can barely even say _hi_ in another language!”

Obviously unused to praise, Oliver blushed ferociously and glanced quickly between his backpack and Felicity.

“They, um,” he stammered, bashful and so far beyond adorable that Felicity wasn’t sure how she managed to keep from hugging him. “They don’t offer courses in Russian, but when I was in middle school I got close with the head of the foreign language department. I don’t know how she knew I was good at it since I goofed off to much in class and bombed quizzes, but I think she told me once that I’d have to be pretty smart to make exactly passing grades and not a point better.”

Felicity laughed at that, easily able to see a precocious young Oliver in her mind’s eye. It was no wonder he hadn’t been doing well in school. She’d only been around him for two hours, but she could already tell he struggled with traditional teaching methods.

Oliver laughed with her for a moment before continuing. “So, the head of the department – her name is Mrs. Brookside, by the way – started paying more attention to me. I’d never had a teacher do that before. Most of them were content to write me off as another screw-up trust fund brat, but not Mrs. Brookside. She’d make me spend detention in her class, and she’d teach me,” he explained with a little shrug.

Felicity scooted closer, her eyes wide. “How many languages do you know? How well can you speak them?” she asked quickly, insatiably curious. Oliver had hidden depths.

Oliver laughed a little again, growing slightly more comfortable under her scrutiny and praise but still a bit stiff. “I’m basically fluent in Spanish and Mandarin. I’m at about the same level as a twelve-year-old in Russian, but Mrs. Brookside things I’ll be almost at the same level as the others by the end of this school year. I’m also working on Arabic and I’m at about the same level in that as I am in Russian,” he explained, starting to sit up a little straighter.

Felicity got the feeling Oliver wasn’t used to being proud of himself. It was endearing to see him start to speak more freely once he realized Felicity actually wanted to listen.

“That’s amazing, Oliver,” she said, grabbing his arm when he tried to shake his head and turn away. “No, Oliver. It really is. Has no one ever told you that before? Stanford would be lucky to have you at this rate!”

Oliver shrugged, but relaxed and leaned a little closer to Felicity. In a distant part of her mind, she realized they were actually very close together.

They didn’t say anything for several moments before Oliver blurted, “You’re remarkable.”

Now Felicity was the one blushing. She opened her mouth, no idea what would come out, and ended up saying, “Thank you for remarking on it.”

They stared at each other for several more moments. Felicity noticed his eyes had flecks of gold in them, just near the pupil.

“Um, uh,” Oliver stammered, then sat back a little bit. His face was still red, but Felicity sat back too and sharply reprimanded herself. They were _just friends_ , and having their faces so close together was _definitely_ awkward. It wasn’t at all exciting, thrilling, or amazing.

“Sorry,” Felicity murmured, turning back to face the school work in front of them. “So, the outline of your paper is good and if you want to – ”

“You should come to the bonfire tonight,” he blurted out again, looking somehow even more embarrassed with himself. “Sorry I keep interrupting you. I just really wanted to invite you before… before I, um…. Forgot.”

Felicity turned sharply, looking intently at him to make sure he actually meant it and wasn’t just inviting her to be nice.

“Is this that thing you were telling me about?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah. It’s really the only thing to do around here at night. Sara’ll be there, by the way. She probably texted you while we were doing this to invite you. She’s kinda forgetful, but she really did like you. I’m sure she… _I’d_ like it if you came,” he said, looking into Felicity’s eyes.

She smiled, just a little. Is this what having real friends felt like? “Really?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

“Of course,” he reassured her, taking her hand on the table and giving it a squeeze. “I’d love it if you came.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

“I’ll pick you up. And we can leave whenever, I’ll take you home the second you’re ready.”

“Well, I haven’t even gotten there yet,” she said with a grin. “But thanks, I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Oliver smiled back. It was big and bright, making Felicity feel like she was basking in the sun. “That’s great. Really great. I know where Digg’s guest house is, so I’ll pick you up at about 9 p.m.?”

A loud noise made them jump apart again, only to look up and see Digg forcefully putting two sandwiches on the table.

“What’re you getting picked up for, Felicity?” he asked, a forced lightness in his tone that she didn’t understand.

She looked up at Digg and smiled. “Oliver just invited me to the bonfire on the beach tonight. It’s okay, he’s going to pick me up and drop me off so you don’t have to worry about me waking anyone,” she explained, happy to report that she was successfully interacting with other people her age. Lyla had seemed worried.

“Oh, don’t even think of it, Felicity. You can leave from the house and I’m sure Lyla would be more than happy to wait up with me to make sure you get home safe,” he said, leveling a glare at Oliver before looking back at her. Oliver was tense beside her, but Felicity reached out and took his hand again to try and calm him down.

“If you’re sure,” she replied to Digg, finally puzzling out the strange interactions between Digg and Oliver. It was embarrassing how long it took, really. It was just so hard to remember that the Oliver she had been around wasn’t the same Oliver Sin told her about, or the Oliver that Digg saw. Or that anyone saw, apparently. For some reason, he’d allowed a version of himself that didn’t exist to perpetuate. The selfish playboy trust fund brat was gone, but that was still the only version of Oliver Queen that people could see.

Felicity made it her unofficial mission – aside from tutoring Oliver and staying under the radar – to prove Digg wrong.

“My shift is ending soon, Felicity. Do you want a ride home?” Digg asked, and Oliver deflated a little. She realized he was probably going to ask if she needed a ride home, but she would lose this chance at spending time alone with Oliver to gain more later.

She smiled up at Digg. “I’d love one. See you tonight, Oliver?” she asked, glancing his way.

He nodded before he shoved all his books into his bag and stood. “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight,” he said to her, smiling before he turned to Digg and the happy expression was chased away by a much more apprehensive one.

“Sir,” he said with a nod.

“Oliver,” the older man responded.

The whole interaction was very macho and unemotional, but before Felicity could comment, Oliver left the Daily Grind.

“I’m telling Lyla,” Felicity teased, taking a huge bite of her sandwich. Oliver had left his behind, which was unfortunate for him but Felicity found herself doubly blessed. Digg was an amazing cook, and eating two of his sandwiches in a row was a dream come true.

Digg shrugged and said, “No idea what you’re talking about.”

Felicity scoffed. “Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IT IS. ANOTHER CHAPTER DOWN. What did you think? Did you like it? Love it? Those are obviously the only two options.
> 
> Please do NOT ask me when I'm going to update. I write as fast as I can, and I'll get to it when I get to it.
> 
> Please DO: leave me a comment, kudo, and check out my Tumblr! (Same name as here).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read this once! Hope you're not disappointed if there's any glaring spelling or grammar mistakes. I'm not super proud of this chapter, but I don't know how to make it better and I just wanted to post it. I hope you enjoy! Things happen. Plot starts.
> 
> Fam, I'm writing an IRL book. That's like, all I've been doing. And job hunting, which is like another full-time job. But we're done with the most recent draft of our book and it's sent to beta readers! If anything comes of it, you'll be the first to know... after like, my mom and IRL friends. Obvs. But I hope it bears fruit and I can share it with you guys!

(art by @pleasantfanandstudent on Tumblr)

Felicity considered changing, but when she’d packed for this “trip” she hadn’t anticipated going on a sort-of, maybe, platonic (or not?) friendship date-thing to a bonfire. She didn’t even have a bathing suit. Ending up in a beach town was completely random, but thankfully it was October so she wouldn’t be questioned on her lack of swimwear.

So, with nothing else to wear, she just stayed in her leggings, combat boots (a holdover from Vegas she hadn’t been able to part with), and the fashionably-baggy pink sweater she’d been wearing all day. It was cute enough, and she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard.

That, and she really shouldn’t be spending the money she’s making on something as ridiculous as clothes.

Felicity tried _not_ to think about how she’d barely thought about leaving in days.

“I’m so happy you’re getting more comfortable here, Felicity,” Lyla said, putting around with Andrea in one arm and her gun still attached to her hip. Felicity didn’t ask what kind of government job required her to be armed going in every day, and she didn’t think Lyla would answer even if she did. “All the kids from the high school go to those bonfires. Detective Lance pretends he doesn’t know about them, but they know better than to get too rowdy.”

Digg snorted from where he was watching something sporty on TV.

“Oh, Johnny, do _try_ to be more supportive,” Lyla scolded, rolling her eyes and taking Andrea into the living space. Felicity followed and sat on the plush chair while Lyla sat on the other end of the couch from her husband.

“Those bonfires _have_ gotten out of hand before,” Digg groused.

Lyla passed Andrea off to her father and settled back into the couch. “That was all Carter Bowen. Don’t blame all of them for that boy’s stupid mistakes,” she replied.

Felicity normally wasn’t good at staying quiet, but she’d found in the past year that holding her tongue could lead to learning valuable information.

“They’re all the same. Bowen, Merlyn, that Queen kid – ”

“Actually, Oliver’s been really great,” Felicity interjected, trying to maintain a composed, neutral tone. She may have learned the value of staying quiet, but she wasn’t going to let a comment like that go. Especially now that she knew how Digg felt about Oliver.

The Diggle’s turned to face her. Lyla had a proud, warm look on her face but Digg just looked confused.

“I mean, I heard about him from Sin, but whenever he’s been around me he’s nothing but considerate and polite. In fact, you were… you were being a little rude to him at the shop earlier,” Felicity said, mustering her courage halfway through the continue her criticism. It was hard for her to call out the Diggle’s on anything since they were being so lovely to her, but cheap housing wasn’t worth letting such judgment pass.

Lyla turned to Digg. “Johnny, what did you do to that poor boy?” she asked.

Digg shifted a little in his seat and defended, “Nothing. Much.”

Felicity had said she’d tell Lyla, and when the older woman turned her gaze to Felicity she did exactly that, “He glared at him. Basically every single time he came over to check on us. Which was frequently.”

“Johnny!”

“What, Lyla? That kid is bad news!”

“You don’t know that,” Felicity interjected again, moving to the edge of her seat. “Have you ever actually spent any time around him? Or have you just heard the stories?”

Digg looked a little uncomfortable at being tag-teamed, but he’d gone on two tours in Afghanistan and didn’t scare easily. “Not much, but it’s not just Sin who has stories. Everyone in town knows he’s like that,” he said, his arguments sounding weaker and weaker to Felicity’s ears.

“Do they _know_ he’s bad news? Or do they just _assume_?” Felicity countered, trying to be gentle but refusing to let Digg’s prejudices stand.

Digg looked even more uncomfortable, and Felicity leaned back with a shrug. She knew when to advance and when to retreat. “I can only go off my own experiences, but they’re telling me he’s a pretty great guy,” she said. “I know I haven’t known him long, but I refuse to condemn him until he gives me a reason to.”

Everyone was quiet, except Andrea making quiet noises for whatever game she was playing with her toy plane and stuffed dog on her father’s lap.

“Just give him a chance, Johnny,” Lyla said after several moments, rubbing her husband on the shoulder. “And if he does anything untoward, I’m sure Felicity is more than capable of handling herself.”

Felicity nodded, but she didn’t have a chance to say anything before Lyla continued, “And then we can make sure he’s never seen again.”

“Lyla!”

The older woman shrugged. “I’m perfectly willing to give him a chance, Felicity, but people have hidden depths. Sometimes they’re good, and sometimes they’re not,” she explained, completely unapologetic.

Felicity rolled her eyes. It was amazing how comfortable she’d gotten at the Diggle’s. Just a short time ago, she wouldn’t have felt comfortable about disagreeing with them in any capacity. Now, she was rolling her eyes and telling Digg he was wrong. She finally felt like she was coming into her own, emerging as a new person who’d survived the horrors of her final months in Vegas and fled across the country.

“If he’s not, you won’t have to worry. I’ll take care of him myself.”

Lyla grinned. “Atta girl.”

 _Knock, knock_.

“Oh good, I was worried he’d try and honk from the street like a degenerate rake,” Lyla said breezily as she got up and went to the door. Digg stood as well, but Andrea’s fussing made him pick her up and take the toddler along. Felicity grinned as she followed behind the bigger man. There was no way Digg could do anything ridiculous with baby Andrea in his arms.

“When did we move to Regency England?” Felicity mused.

“Let it be. If you give her grief about it, she’ll start yelling about coxcombs, Almack’s, and highwaymen,” Digg mumbled.

“I know one of those words.”

“Be thankful.”

“I can _hear_ you,” Lyla announced, sending a sharp but humored glare over her shoulder. Felicity used the moment to slip to the front of the procession and reach the door first.

Lyla and Digg waited behind her expectantly, and she glanced back at them. “So, we’re… Are we… Yeah, okay. Guess we are,” she stammered, turning back to the door and throwing it open.

Sweet, salty air brought the crisp smell of a seaside night and the image of Oliver Queen.

He was hunched, with his hands shoved into his pockets. He turned when the door opened, smiling when he caught sight of her. Felicity couldn’t help but return the expression. His long-sleeved blue Henley made his eyes glow, a brown leather jacket thrown over it to ward off the chill.

“Felicity,” he said.

“Oliver.”

They were in their own world for a moment, suspended in lamplight, until reality came crashing back.

“Oliver! It’s good to see you,” Lyla announced. Felicity turned to face the doorway where Lyla and Digg hovered, taking a step on to the porch, closer to Oliver. Thankfully, she’d grabbed her bag on the way to the door.

“Nice to see you as well, Mrs. Michaels-Diggle,” he said, holding out his hand. Lyla shook it with a smile.

“Oliver,” Digg said, doing his best to look intimidating while little Andrea was giggling and flailing in his arms. She reached out for Oliver, making grabby hands, and Felicity laughed at Oliver’s fearful expression. It seemed that Oliver’s charm worked on girls of any age.

“Mr. Diggle,” Oliver responded, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach out but unsure of how his hand would be received.

“Alright, let’s go!” Felicity announced with a clap. She had to get him away before Lyla invited him inside and she had to suffer through any variation of their prior conversations.

“Felicity, wouldn’t Oliver like to – ”

“Nope! I’ll be back later. Bye guys!”

Felicity grabbed Oliver’s hand and ran down the porch toward the waiting car.

A silver Audi sat in the street like a tiger, and Felicity refused to react to a 17-year-old high-school senior having an Audi R8 in a salty beach town.

“Wait!” Oliver exclaimed.

Felicity paused by the car, looking over her shoulder and following Oliver as he hustled ahead of her. He opened the passenger car door and gestured for her to enter.

Felicity paused, looking at the scene in front of her, and couldn’t help a broad smile. “Guess we are in Regency England,” she said, slipping into the car without further comment.

“What?” Oliver asked when he got into his seat, double-checking that she had her seatbelt on before smoothly putting the car in gear and driving away.

“Nothing,” Felicity hummed, unable to suppress a smile.

Oliver would learn soon enough that she was more than capable of opening and closing doors for herself.

  
“Lissy!”

“Hey, Sara,” Felicity called back as she and Oliver made their way across the sand to the group around the bonfire. Oliver had wordlessly taken her elbow as soon as they reached the sand, continuing their conversation seamlessly until the group came in view.

They reached the group in a few moments and the other blonde threw her arms around Felicity, dislodging her from Oliver’s hand.

“I’m so happy you came!” Sara continued, linking her arm with Felicity’s and dragging her over to the fire. “Come meet everyone.”

Felicity glanced over at Oliver, left in their sandy wake, and couldn’t help but grin at the look on his face before Sara brought her to the rest of the group.

“You’ve already met Laurel and Tommy,” she said, gesturing to the duo who’d quickly jumped apart and stood up from the blanket they were sitting on when Sara came over. “They think we don’t know they’re dating, but it’s about the worst kept secret on the beach.”

“Sara!” Laurel exclaimed. Tommy looked slightly bashful, which Felicity could tell was a new look for him.

Sara rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, sis. No one will tell dad,” she said.

Tommy barreled right through the situation and held out his hand to Felicity. “Nice to officially meet you. And I was told to apologize for my behavior at the Daily Grind, so this is me apologizing. I’m so sorry to have offended your sensibilities, Miss…”

“I recognize fishing when I see it, Tommy,” Felicity said, shaking his hand. “You can just call me Felicity. And I wasn’t offended, but Laurel’s probably right to make you apologize. Most girls in the service industry aren’t so forgiving, and they can’t speak their mind when you flirt with them. They have to be nice to you. Best to just be polite and tip well.”

Tommy looked taken aback, but nodded. “I’ll do that,” he said, uncharacteristically serious.

Laurel reached out and took Felicity’s hand when Tommy pulled back. “Thanks for that. I think it means more coming from you,” she said. “Nice to officially meet you.”

After that, Sara carted Felicity around and introduced her to everyone else. There was Nyssa – and Felicity definitely hadn’t imagined the heated looks between them – Caitlin and her boyfriend Ronnie, Iris, Cisco, Barry and a few more. She was introduced so quickly that all the names and faces started to blur together.

She fell in well with Barry and Cisco, though. One _Star Wars_ reference and they were instant friend.

Felicity was surprised at how easy it was to feel settled here. She’d only been in Star Beach for a few weeks, but it already felt almost like… home.

After about an hour, Felicity found herself alone again. She didn’t mind the quiet at all. Barry and Cisco had been called over to referee some ridiculous competition between Tommy and Ronnie, and she was sitting a bit away from the fire facing the Atlantic Ocean. The roar of the waves was soothing, and Felicity was entranced by the moonlight on the water.

“Having fun?”

Oliver plopped down in the sand next to her, just close enough for their shoulders to brush. Felicity jumped just a little, having not heard him walk up.

“Yeah!” she said brightly, trying to cover how such close proximity to his ridiculously handsome face was affecting her. “Everyone’s been great so far.”

“I noticed you were chatting with Barry and Cisco for a while,” he said.

Something in his tone made Felicity look over at him, but he was facing the ocean so she couldn’t properly make out his expression.

“Yeah…” she said, drawing out the word while she kept looking at Oliver’s face. He didn’t react again, so she just mentally shrugged and continued, “I overheard them talking about a drive-in theater around here showing all the _Star Wars_ movies, and we started talking about it. I mentioned I don’t have a car, and they offered to take me when they open.”

“I could take you,” Oliver said quickly. Again, something was off with his tone. But again, Felicity looked over at him and couldn’t make out anything from his expression except a tightness around his eyes and mouth.

“You like _Star Wars_?” she asked. It wasn’t surprising, exactly. The franchise was a massive cultural phenomenon. But Oliver just didn’t seem like the _Star Wars_ type. Maybe it was his complete lack of pop-culture knowledge she discovered during their tutoring session.

“I…” Oliver stammered, and it was dark but Felicity would’ve sworn she saw a faint blush tinging his cheeks. “I mean, I haven’t seen them, exactly. But I’d take you if you want to go.”

Felicity propped her chin on her knees and leaned into Oliver’s side, nudging him with her shoulder. “You’d watch _Star Wars_ with me?” she asked, her tone light and teasing.

Oliver coughed and stammered, “Well, yeah. Thea saw the new one and says they’re good, and it might be good to… what?”

He trailed off when he finally turned toward her. She knew she was smiling – a big, fat, toothy smile – and she didn’t even try to hide it. “Nothing. You just make me happy. I’d love to watch Star Wars with you,” she said.

“Oh,” Oliver said, pausing for a moment before he smiled back. “Well, good.”

The jarring sound of a phone alert made them jump. It was only when they turned to look over their shoulders that Felicity realized how close they’d been sitting.

“What was that?” Oliver asked, his eyes narrowed on Laurel. The other girl was standing next to Tommy, looking like she’d stopped mid-conversation to stare down at her phone.

“It’s a news alert,” she said, her voice quiet but still carrying to everyone at the bonfire.

Sick dread curled in Felicity’s stomach, slowly making its way up her throat and into her mouth.

“Laurel? What is it?” Tommy asked, erasing the meager space between them when he stepped even closer. Felicity understood his concern. Laurel’s summer-tan face was pale and grey. Everyone came a little closer, including Oliver and Felicity. He helped her up from the sand and kept hold of her hand as they made their way back to the fire. Felicity noticed, distantly, but just clutched his hand harder.

“There’s been another murder,” Laurel said with a serious tone.

The mood instantly dropped, but Felicity was confused.

“What?” she asked, her tone quiet. Even though she didn’t know what was going on, that thick sense of dread wouldn’t let her go. She knew it couldn’t be anything good. Well, murder was never _good_. But she had a feeling this was especially _bad_.

“There’s been a series of murders across the country,” Oliver explained quietly, his brows furrowed and blue eyes serious.

Laurel finally looked up from her phone and pursed her lips. “They started just about a week before you got here, actually. The police didn’t realize they were connected at first since they happened in different cities, but the MO was enough to capture their attention and coordinate,” she explained further.

Barry added, “Joe thinks they’re mob hits. All the victims are tortured, garroted, and then their eyes are gouged out.”

“Barry!”

Oliver’s voice was sharp, but Felicity could barely hear him. Blood rushed in her ears and a high humming blocked out the sound of the ocean and crackling fire. Her stomach dropped and that sick feeling clawed up her throat.

“Where?” Felicity asked, somehow managing to speak past the massive lump in her esophagus.

Oliver squeezed her hand and asked, “Felicity?”

She had to ignore it. “Where?” she asked again, keeping her eyes on Laurel.

The other woman looked a little concerned – as did everyone – but she answered, “Las Vegas, Bryce Canyon National Park, and Vail, Colorado. This most recent alert is from Lincoln, Nebraska.”

Felicity felt like the world was tilting, as if she could feel the world hurtling around the sun at almost twenty miles per second. On her way across the county, she’d stopped at every one of those places. In fact, if she thought about it, she could predict where the next murders could take place. Des Moines, Chicago, Cleveland…

There was only one explanation for those murders.

 _He_ was hunting her.

Other people were speaking. Cisco made some comment about road-tripping murderers, which made Barry, Ronnie and Tommy laugh. Everyone else even managed a smile, happy to inject some good humor into the tense atmosphere.

Felicity wrapped her arms around herself, only just now realizing she’d been holding Oliver’s hand the whole time.

“Are you alright?” Oliver asked quietly. He’d turned to face her, gently gripping her elbow. They were in their own little bubble on the edge of the fire, between the light and darkness, and Felicity absently wondered where the line fell across her face.

“Umm… I need to go. It’s been,” she checked her phone, “a little while and I have work early. I can call Lyla or Digg if – ”

“No, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll take you back. Wanna say goodbye to everyone?”

“Yeah, sure,” Felicity said, fighting to sound normal. She could do this. A few more minutes, a car ride, and she could get back to the small, cozy cottage. She could break down in private, then figure out what to do next.

Everything was a blur, though Felicity was sure she must’ve said goodbye to everyone or they would’ve been way more worried about her. She came back to herself sitting in Oliver’s car, the winding seaside road laid out before them. Oliver was tense in the driver’s seat, obviously wanting to know what was going on. Felicity was just thankful he hadn’t asked.

Felicity bit her lip and gazed out the window, stopping herself from bringing her knees to her chest. She couldn’t imagine putting her dirty shoes on these butter-soft leather seats.

The sleepy town flew past as Felicity looked into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? I hope you enjoyed! I have NO plan for next chapter, but I have a few things I know I want to happen eventually... Who knows?
> 
> Drop me a comment and kudo here (they feed my soul) then head over to my Tumblr (same name as here) for bonus content of me being weird and procrastinating my life!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wellllllcome back, everybody! No excuses, real life has just been using me as a punching bag lately.
> 
> Read this once, but as per usual, I don't have a beta. So please keep any snarky comments about misspellings or incorrect grammar to yourself.
> 
> As always, still working on my RL book. Anyone who thinks the idea is the hard part... trust me, it's definitely not.

Felicity didn’t know what to do.

She was frozen.

Oliver had brought her back to the Diggle’s, but she refused his offer to walk her to the door. He tried to ask what was wrong, but Felicity insisted she was tired. She floated through the house, saying words she couldn’t even remember to Lyla and Digg, and got back to her cottage.

Though spending time in the Diggle house was amazing, there was something about the little seaside cottage that made Felicity feel safe. Its gauzy white curtains billowed gently in the breeze that came through the windows that were almost always open when Felicity was in. The furniture was sturdy and small to fit the space, but it was more than enough for Felicity. There was a TV with basic cable and Internet, but she was too scared to use it.

 _He_ might find her if she did.

Felicity made sure the place was locked up tight – even the beautiful windows – and quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt. There was a mirror over the vanity, and Felicity was less shocked every time she caught sight of her newly-dyed blonde hair. Until now. In this moment, the sunshine blonde felt as strange as the day she dyed it.

She wanted to run. But she didn’t.

She felt torn, trapped, and scared. She should be packing, getting all her money from its various hidey-holes, but she couldn’t move. Her reflection stared back at her, blue eyes too wide behind her two-tone glasses. Shallow breathing. Everything was collapsing, a dying star, a black hole, and Felicity couldn’t think of a way this ended without total annihilation.

But still, she couldn’t move. Everything in here was screaming to run, but her feet remained planted.

Everything that happened the night she left Vegas was rushing through her mind: the gun, the blood. Her mother. _Him_.

She and Donna Smoak had never been close, but the events of the past months had bonded them closer than ever.

Her heart ached when she even _thought_ her mother’s name. Leaving had been inevitable, inescapable. But she still felt sick when she remembered what happened.

The wind picked up outside, rattling the cottage shutters. Felicity distantly wondered if the bonfire was going to pack up soon. It sounded like a storm was rolling in.

Her phone chimed, drawing her attention. She opened the text notification and couldn’t help but smile. Sara had sent her the selfie they’d taken at the bonfire, both of their blonde heads leaned into each other and smiling so hard their blue eyes were barely visible.

_‘Love spending more time with you! Don’t let Ollie steal all your time tutoring him. We need a girl’s day!’_

An uncomfortable but warm pressure surged in her chest, erasing all the fear and trepidation. Well, most of it. Whatever happened tomorrow, she wasn’t leaving tonight. Maybe it was the text. Maybe it was the storm. Maybe it was something else. But instead of packing everything in a rush and disappearing into the night, Felicity changed into pajamas, fell into bed, and went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Despite her initial decision to stay, Felicity spent the next two days in a fit of nerves. She packed, unpacked, paced, and gazed out the window running through scenarios in her mind. She had no idea where she would go if she left, but could she really stay? How far would she have to run to finally outrun her past?

The storm lasted. It beat against the sand and the tiny cottage at the edge of the beach, but the little blue and white structure stood strong against the deluge. Felicity felt kinship with the beachside house, buffeted so relentlessly by the wind and rain. Between her flights of packing and unpacking, she was constantly changing her mind between running and leaving or staying, burying herself deeper in the shadows of Star Beach or finding an even blacker place to hide.

Leaving had never been hard for Felicity. Not since she first left Vegas, desperate and clawing as far as she could. But now, she found herself lingering over the little cottage – despite how short her hours there had been – the warmth she’d felt at the Diggle’s, the picture from the bonfire, and… Oliver.

It was ridiculous, how she was feeling. She barely knew Oliver, but in their brief acquaintance she found herself marveling at his kindness, his thoughtfulness, his warmth. There had been other boys before in her brief life – only 16 years, not the 19 she lied she was to escape CPS and over-concerned adults – but none of them gave her the rush she found impossible to keep at bay around Oliver.

She got a few texts from him about tutoring, but they weren’t due to meet again for a few days. Felicity hadn’t lied about that, at least. She _had_ graduated high school. No one needed to know it had been two years early.

The events of recent months had put her future on hold, but she refused to admit defeat in respect to her dreams. MIT had accepted her deferment – thankfully only a few had even known of her acceptance – and no matter what, she would get the future she wanted.

Knocks at the door made Felicity jerk so hard she almost fell off her bed.

“Felicity! Lyla wants you to come to dinner. She’s worried you’re withering away out here,” Digg’s voice filtered through the cottage over the rain.

Felicity shuffled to the door, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. A hundred excuses ran through her head, but none of them would work on Digg. He could sense BS from a mile away. A closed door wouldn’t stop him.

“Uh… okay. Let me just get a raincoat.” And throw actual clothes on.

Less than two minutes later, Felicity opened the door into the pouring rain and came face-to-face with a softly smiling Digg holding a huge umbrella.

“Hey, girl. We’ve missed you.”

His face was so accepting and kind, his dark eyes so open, and Felicity felt choked. She’d been acting so erratically for the past few days, ignoring his and Lyla’s calls and texts, and he was still reaching out to her and refusing to let her hide.

Unnamable feeling surged in Felicity’s chest and, before she could stop herself, she launched forward and threw her arms around Digg.

“Sorry,” Felicity mumbled after a moment, pulling back and rubbing her hands over her cheeks.

“No problem,” Digg said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder so they could both duck under the umbrella as they walked through the storm to the cabin.

The evening was blessedly normal. Digg and Lyla both acted like she hadn’t ghosted them for days, and Felicity was grateful. She didn’t want to talk about what had led her to becoming a temporary hermit. Andrea was a joy, as always, and Felicity felt her spirits lift with the toddler’s every giggle.

After dinner, Felicity took over and washed the dishes while the Diggle’s prepared the living room for a board game and movie night. Her arms were elbow-deep in sudsy water when her phone buzzed. She looked at the display screen reflexively and saw “ _Text message from Oliver Queen_.”

 _Deep breaths_.

Nothing to get stupid about. A text from Oliver. Probably about their tutoring session tomorrow.

Felicity finished the dishes at a totally normal speed and dried her hands. Before joining the Diggle’s, she unlocked her phone to read the text. It would be rude to keep Oliver waiting if it _was_ about tutoring, right? Maybe he had a question about his homework.

_‘Srry, but can u tutor me @ my house 2moro? Thea sick.’_

Kaleidoscopes of butterflies took off in her chest, and Felicity couldn’t suppress a smile. Oliver’s relationship with Thea was one of the many reasons she couldn’t understand why no one else saw past his playboy past. No one with that much care and devotion in their heart could be truly callous about how they treated other people.

Also, his use of chat speak despite having a smartphone was equal parts endearing and frustrating.

She quickly typed back, _‘Sure! Just send me the address. Anything I can bring?’_

Felicity busied herself with double-checking that her hands were dry and wiping down the counter, waiting for that tell-tale _buzz_.

_‘No thx! Just don’t want 2 leave her alone.’_

_Heart, this is a terrible time to melt_ , Felicity chastised herself. Yet, melt her heart did. What was she supposed to do? She was only human.

“Felicity? You okay in there?” Lyla called.

“Yep! Coming!”

 

* * *

 

The storm had stopped the next day, but the sky was a concerning shade of green-yellow and the air felt thick and hot. Felicity wasn’t concerned at first. Growing up in the desert, she was used to quick flash floods, sand storms, maybe some severe thunderstorms. But Sin’s anxious glances from the sky to her weather app put Felicity on edge. That, and the TV in the employee break room was switched to The Weather Channel. Sin didn’t seem the type to casually watch The Weather Channel.

“Is everything okay?” Felicity asked for what felt like the fifth time. Her prior attempts ended in noncommittal grunts, furrowed brows, or worried frowns. Or all three, if Sin was feeling particularly enterprising.

“I just… don’t like storms,” the other girl finally admitted after furtively looking around the shop to make sure no one else was in hearing distance. It was before the school rush and after the early afternoon rush, so the Daily Grind was pretty empty.

“It rained all yesterday and you were fine.” Felicity wasn’t trying to be insensitive, just curious.

Sin looked at her like she was crazy. “Literally everything happening right now is a recipe for a really bad storm. Green sky. Hot and humid after a bad storm. Windy. More rain coming. How do you not know this?”

“Oh, uh – ” Felicity stammered. “I’m from the west coast.”

Not the worst lie she’d told since coming to the beach.

Sin just nodded and looked anxiously at her phone again.

The rest of Felicity’s shift flew by and before she knew it, it was half an hour until she had to be at Oliver’s house. Digg and Lyla had offered to drive, but Felicity insisted she could get a cab. She didn’t want another pre-bonfire shakedown attempt.

She’d called ahead to the cab service, so the cheerful, yellow sedan was already waiting at the curb when she left the Daily Grind after changing into more casual clothes – leggings, again, and an oversize yellow sweater. It was almost exactly what she’d worn to the bonfire, but a pair of cute panda flats adorned her feet. So what if this became her unofficial uniform? It was comfortable.

The cabbie was polite but quiet, and got her to Oliver’s house with five minutes to spare.

Or should she say castle?

For some reason, knowing Oliver was a trust fund baby with parents who spent the week working at a company that bore their name in Star City didn’t translate in Felicity’s mind to the fact that he probably lived in a big house. Or, it had, but she’d anticipated a normal kind of big. Maybe two stories, excessively high ceilings, and fancy crown molding.

Not this.

Oliver’s house looked like something out of a fairytale, made of dark grey and tan stone, with literal ramparts and turrets and a pitched green roof. Once the cabbie turned off the main road, the drive included going down a long, winding stone path. There was even a small security post, at which Felicity had to give her name to be admitted entry.

The cabbie pulled under the stone awning, having driven around the manicured garden in the middle of the paved circle at the end of the long drive.

But she couldn’t get out.

“Somethin’ wrong?” the driver asked, and Felicity shook her head. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, fixed on the huge, wooden front doors. There were _two_ of them. _French doors_ for the front of their house. Mansion. Castle.

Those doors then opened unexpectedly and Oliver walked out, looking perfectly at home in a fitted blue sweater and jeans. He had a smile on his face and waved when he saw her, walking up to the front passenger side of the cab.

The driver had that window rolled down by the time he arrived. “Hey, Felicity!” Oliver said, glancing in the back seat at her frozen form. Before she could attempt to speak past her suddenly-thick tongue, Oliver handed the driver cash and said, “Keep the change.”

“Oliver,” Felicity protested, finding her voice, but he’d already moved again and opened her door, holding out a hand to her.

“It’s the least I can do,” he insisted, squeezing Felicity’s hand once she found the presence of mind to grab his offered one. “I made you drive all the way out here. One of my drivers can take you home tonight.”

“Oliver – ” She got out of the cab and it drove away as soon as she shut the door.

“I insist. You shouldn’t have to pay for a cab to here or back home when you’re doing me a favor.”

Felicity smiled, but was quiet. They faced each other, hands still linked, for several second before Oliver furrowed his brow and asked, “What? You’re not usually this quiet.”

“Are you going to let me speak, or keep interrupting me?” she asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

Oliver ducked his head and smiled. Oh, bashful looked _too_ good on him.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just… don’t want you to go out of your way when I can help.”

Felicity’s smile widened. “I guess I can accept your help sometimes,” she admitted. Just then, a crack of thunder disturbed their bubble under the stone arch and they both jerked in surprise.

“Let’s get inside,” Oliver said, leading the way up the stairs and through the huge doors.

It was only as they stood in the entryway that Felicity realized they were still holding hands. She let go as normally as possible, trying not to drop it like poison or have it long and lingering. She covered up any awkwardness by reaching into her bag to double-check her phone and wallet were there. Like she’d somehow lost them between the cab and the door.

“So, where to? Your room? Oh, wow, I mean, we _definitely_ don’t have to study in your room if – Surely there’s a table somewhere much better suited…” Felicity took a deep breath to center herself, squared her shoulders, and asked, “Where are we studying tonight?”

Oliver watched the whole thing with this… Felicity could only settle on adoring indulgence.

“I was going to have us sit at the kitchen table, but we can move things to my room if you’d like.”

Was Oliver Queen _flirting_ with her? It sounded like it, but Felicity didn’t have much experience with this type of thing. The only guys who flirted with her before tended to be the socially awkward types who made comments about things they liked in the hopes that they’d find enough common ground to talk to her about something. To be fair, that’s how she used to flirt, too.

There hadn’t been much time for flirting since everything changed.

“Oh, uh, erm… I – I’m sure the kitchen table will be perfectly adequate,” she said, almost more breath than true sound.

Oliver’s lips curled into a grin and his eyes… Felicity would’ve sworn they _glowed_.

“If you insist.”

It was a good thing Oliver chose that moment to start leading Felicity through the house/mansion/castle, because she didn’t know what she would’ve said in response anyway.

“Wow, this castle is big. I mean, there’s so many steps from the front door to the kitchen. We’re not even there yet! I bet I could run a mile around this place and it would just be one lap. Not that I run.”

Oliver chuckled, the warm sound curling around Felicity like an affectionate cat. “It’s not a castle. My mom says it’s technically a mansion.”

“Oh, a _mansion_. That’s _much_ better.”

Oliver only laughed again, and Felicity was happy he could tell she was teasing. Sometimes, her sarcasm came across much meaner than it was meant, but Oliver seemed to understand her.

They walked through a formal dining room into the kitchen. Oliver led Felicity through the hazardous maze of appliances and counter space to a little table tucked in an alcove. Felicity knew this had to be the open space inside a turret, but this one faced the backyard instead of the front. Backyard. More like back… many acres. Huge windows let in the afternoon light, though the ominous sky darkened things enough to require Oliver to turn on the overhead lights. Even with the storm rolling in, it looked positively magical.

“I’m happy you approve.” Oliver’s voice broke her from her thoughts and she couldn’t fight the bright red blush from staining her cheeks. She looked over her shoulder to where he was filling glasses with water from the fridge. Felicity had always liked the ones with filters inside. The Diggle’s had one like that, too.

“It’s really gorgeous here. Do you ever host weddings? Not that I – I’m not getting married. Obviously. I’m just wondering because – ”

“We’ve hosted weddings for some friends,” Oliver answered her question smoothly, like she hadn’t been babbling her mouth off. “None since I was a kid, though. Most of my parents’ friends are married, and my friends definitely aren’t getting married yet.” Oliver came to her side and set the glasses on the table.

Oliver’s endless acceptance of whatever crazy thing came out of her mouth was unexpected and endearing. Even back in Vegas, her mom had trouble following a lot of her rambles.

The thought of her mother sent a sharp, burning pang through her gut. With a deep breath to bring herself back to the present – the Queen Mansion – she clasped her hands and said, “So, what are we working on?”

They sat and Oliver brought her up to speed on his studies. There was another paper due (his English Lit teacher apparently loved grading 10-page-minimum papers), an organic chem test, which would stretch even Felicity’s intellect, and new calculus material he was struggling to understand.

Two hours passed as they worked. Felicity forgot the time, losing herself in the familiar cadence of schoolwork and Oliver. When the work got arduous, he was always there with a sharp quip. When he got down on himself, Felicity was there to bring him out of his funk. The sun dipped below the beautifully manicured lawns outside, below the distant line of trees, turning the horizon grey-purple.

“Wow, it’s really storming hard,” Oliver commented, his blue eyes gazing out the tall windows. The beach wasn’t visible from here, but the view was still breathtaking.

Felicity jumped and looked outside, shocked to see a torrential downpour beating against the glass. “Oh, wow,” she said, stilted.

Oliver turned to her with a little smile. “You didn’t even realize it was raining, did you?”

“I… Uh, is it bad if I say no?”

How had she not noticed? Sin had been worried all day, and it looked like she was right to be.

Oliver laughed and shook his head. “’Course not, but let me check the weather,” he said, flipping over his smartphone. For their entire session, it had been screen-down.

His brow furrowed at whatever he saw. “This looks pretty bad, Felicity. It’ll keep raining at least this hard until early in the morning,” he said. He looked up from his phone to meet her eyes, somehow looking even more concerned. “I think you should stay here tonight.”

“Oh, no, no. I couldn’t! Your driver can take me home and everything will be fine,” Felicity insisted, a strong wave of feeling fluttering in her chest. The driver was enough, she couldn’t possibly stay, too.

“It’s practically a hurricane out there,” a congested voice said from the door to the kitchen, making both Oliver and Felicity jerk to face it. A young girl… woman stood at the far edge of the huge kitchen island. She looked about Felicity’s age – her true age, sixteen – decked out in unicorn pajamas, and sporting a serious case of bedhead. Her nose was bright red and she sounded slightly congested. Thea. “You should stay. We have plenty of room.”

“Thea, why are you out of bed?” Oliver asked, immediately on his feet and making his way to the young girl/woman. His tone was soft and gentle, so unlike any way Felicity had ever heard him sound.

He dropped a kiss on the top of Thea’s head. She sent a sweet smile up to her brother and shuffled closer to Felicity. “Why don’t you want to stay? You shouldn’t go out in the storm. The weather man says everyone should stay inside. And you wouldn’t want Andrew to get into an accident driving you home, would you?”

Faced with the sweet face of the fifteen-year-old sister she’d heard so much about, and the potential to cause harm to one of the Queen’s drivers, Felicity could only say, “Oh, well… if that’s what the weather man says. Guess I should listen to him?”

It was strictly a question, but Thea nodded, her expression turning from wide-eyed and cherubic to a little smug and the barest bit devilish. Felicity couldn’t help but feel like she’d done exactly what Thea wanted.

“Ollie, what’re you making for dinner?”

Felicity’s eyes snapped to Oliver, catching the tail end of a warm expression he had fixed on her and Thea. He straightened quickly, focusing on his little sister.

“I don’t know, Speedy. What would you both like?” he asked.

Thea groaned, stumbling around the little table to throw herself in a chair. “Ollie, stop calling me Speedy. I’m almost sixteen! I’m grown up!”

“You’re still my Speedy, Speedy. And you’re seven months away from sixteen. Now, what do you want for dinner?”

Oliver started milling around the kitchen, taking down pots, pans and a few basic ingredients.

“You’re cooking?” Felicity asked, unable to contain her surprise. She’d assumed they were going to order in despite the weather. Domino’s stayed open during even the worst storms Vegas could muster, and neither she nor her mother were exactly domestic goddesses.

Oliver threw a smile over his shoulder, but it was Thea who answered. “Oh, yeah. Ollie’s food is better than any restaurant I’ve been to.”

Oliver’s ears were pink, but he stayed focused on the kitchen paraphernalia in front of him.

“I’m Thea, by the way. We weren’t properly introduced,” she said, making Felicity turn to her. Thea didn’t hold out a hand, but her words were a clear introduction. “You must be Felicity, right? Ollie’s told me a lot about you.”

Felicity sucked in a breath. Oliver talked about her? “Yeah? I mean, yeah. No question. I’m Felicity. I tutor Oliver,” she said, managing to keep the babble to a minimum. Short, stilted sentences were still awkward, but nothing compared to what else her mouth was capable of.

She refused to be embarrassed about potential sexual innuendos in her own head.

Thea smiled. “Well, he called you a friend. But tutor too, I guess. What do you want to eat? Ollie can make anything,” she said, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands.

“I’m allergic to nuts,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth. Not an answer, but something pertaining to the conversation. A step in the right direction. “And I don’t eat shellfish or pork.”

She wasn’t comfortable sharing her religion with anyone in Star Beach yet. Probably a vain attempt to keep some distance between her true self and the person she’d become when she ran from Vegas. Like donning some thin disguise would make it easier if she had to leave. But looking at Oliver, who listened to her restrictions like they were holy writ, she knew it would already be almost impossible to go without leaving something precious behind.

Both Queens just nodded, and Thea added, “Mac and cheese! Yours is the best, Ollie.”

“Mac and cheese isn’t a meal, Thea.”

“Hmm… cheese enchiladas?”

The siblings turned to Felicity, who shrugged. “I like enchiladas! And mac and cheese. All the cheese. I’m sure anything you make will be great, Oliver,” she said.

Oliver blushed again, all the way down his neck. He pulled out more specialized ingredients and ducked his face.

“Oh, and peaches and cream crepes for dessert?”

Felicity’s eyes shot wide and she looked from Thea to Oliver.

“I didn’t realize the tutoring session would end with a gourmet meal. I’m impressed.”

Thea laughed, her green eyes lighting with interest. “So, Felicity. Oliver only ever goes on and on about how smart and funny you are, but he’s light on the details. Tell me about yourself.”

Felicity spent the next forty-five minutes watching Oliver cook and telling Thea just enough to satisfy her curiosity without revealing too much. It was exhausting, and thankfully once Felicity found a few things Thea liked – reality TV, archery, and volunteering at the animal shelter – it was easy to keep her talking about them.

And honestly, everyone liked at least one reality TV show. Anyone who said otherwise was a liar.

“I know Kim is the powerhouse, but I just really love Kourtney. She has this crazy sense of humor – ”

“I get what you mean!” Felicity exclaimed, a huge smile on her face. “Khloe’s probably my favorite, though.”

“Alright, alright,” Oliver interrupted, carrying over three plates laden with food. One was in his left hand, and the other two were balanced along his right arm like a waiter. “Enough keeping up. Dinner is served, ladies.”

“Oh, thanks!” Felicity said, stunned to stillness as Oliver quickly set the table around them and sat in his previous seat. “You didn’t have to – ”

“It was my pleasure,” he interrupted with a smile. With no more reason for Felicity to protest, the three of them dug in.

Felicity might have been embarrassed by the noises she was making, but Oliver’s food was so good she didn’t care. Oliver and Thea kept making amused faces, but they were too busy chewing to say anything. After the initial rush of hunger was sated, they started talking again. Conversation flowed easily, but eventually something came to Felicity’s attention and she couldn’t help but voice it.

“Hey, where are your parents?” Felicity asked, looking around the kitchen like the Queen matriarch and patriarch would appear in a cloud of pantsuits and expensive cologne. She knew they worked at QC in Star City, but the work day should’ve been over. And the commute wasn’t _that_ long.

“They work in the city. I’m sure you’ve heard about QC by now,” Thea said around a mouthful of mac and cheese. “So, they stay there during the week. Sometimes on the weekends too, if they have events.”

Felicity turned back to the table, brows furrows at Thea’s tone. Her expression was neutral and she was focused on the food, as if her parents being away all the time was normal. But something in her voice told Felicity that she cared more than she let on.

But she wasn’t close enough to Thea to try and initiate a deep, emotional conversation about absentee parents. Even though she was pretty qualified to talk about them, at least on her father’s side.

If only he’d _stayed_ away.

After dinner, they watched some TV – mostly talking instead of actually paying attention – and after almost two hours, Thea announced she was going to bed. Felicity and Oliver wished the younger girl goodnight, neither of them noticing the conspiratorial look in her eyes as she left them in the living room.

Several seconds later, they seemed to realize they were finally alone and they’d turned down the tv volume so much in the midst of their chatter that the flat screen now just cast an ambient glow dancing on the sides of their faces.

The quiet stretched like a cat, two sets of blue eyes locked. Awareness skittered across Felicity’s skin, raising goosebumps at the sudden, nonsensical thought of Oliver leaning forward and –

“We should go to bed,” Felicity murmured, forcing herself to shatter the silence. She had to, or she wouldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

Then, she replayed what she said and cringed. “I mean, separately. Obviously. We should both go to our own rooms and go to sleep. Since you have school tomorrow and everything, and I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

Oliver only smiled. If that was going to be his reaction to her babbling, she might do it a little more often. His smile was amazing. “Yeah, probably. Let’s go upstairs,” he said. They both stood and climbed the stairs, passing several closed doors before coming to one that looked exactly the same from the others.

“This is your room for the night. I’ll go grab some spare clothes for you to sleep in. My room is just across the hall, and Thea’s is two down from you if you need anything. Wait here a sec,” he explained.

Felicity’s brain short-circuited when she learned Oliver’s room was right across from hers, but managed to nod. Oliver darted across the hall into his room, leaving the door open. Felicity couldn’t resist peeking. His room was shockingly clean for a teenage boy, with a desk and full-length mirror in the portion she could see. Before she could look further, Oliver returned with a bundle of clothes and held them out.

“Sorry, they’re mine. Thea’s already asleep, you shouldn’t have to spend the night in your clothes. Is that alright?” he asked.

Felicity took the bundle and nodded again, trying not to fall into a daze. Sleeping across the hall from Oliver, wearing his clothes… what would happen next?

“Yeah, of course. Thanks so much. I hate to cause – ”

“It’s no trouble,” Oliver interrupted, and they both smiled. Felicity felt a blush rising, so she ducked her head and turned toward the door to her room for the night.

“Well, I’m off to bed. See you in the morning?”

“Breakfast is at 7:15. I’ll be sure to brew extra coffee.” He’d noticed her addiction, had he? During their tutoring sessions at the Daily Grind, she always had at least two coffees. On top of what she’d already drank that day.

Felicity’s face was already beet red, so instead of trying to insist that she didn’t need breakfast, she just nodded and slipped into the guest room.

She closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a breath. Being that close to Oliver was dangerous. Instead of focusing on him just across the hall, she observed the space. It was smaller than what she could guess Oliver’s room was, but that wasn’t saying much. It was only slightly smaller than her entire cottage at the Diggle’s. The color palette was cream and navy, very classic and classy. Everything looked so incredibly expensive, she was afraid to touch.

But in the end, exhaustion won out. She quickly changed into Oliver’s clothes – _definitely_ not lingering to take deep breaths and think about how good he smelled – and set her phone alarm. She’d texted the Diggle’s when she decided to stay, which had garnered an _‘Of course, the storm is too bad to travel. Have fun!_ ’ from Lyla and a simple _‘Stay safe’_ from Digg. Probably the best she could’ve hoped for from him.

The bathroom was equally gorgeous, and supplied with minis of necessary bath products and a toothbrush still in its packaging. Felicity marveled at the luxury before going back to the bedroom, turning off the light, and flopping into bed.

Rain pattered against the window, and rolling thunder was her lullaby as she drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? There is more to come from Felicity's impromptu stay at the Queen Mansion... never fear. Leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Tumblr: [@imusuallyobsessed](https://imusuallyobsessed.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@usuallyobsessed](https://twitter.com/usuallyobsessed)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read this through once! I have zero patience, I'm telling you.
> 
> Real life, man. I know I talk about it a lot, but graduating college is just the beginning of a horror show in this economy XD unless you're in STEM. Then you go, Glen Coco. I'm not, unfortunately.
> 
> Anyway, let's use fanfiction to escape the pain! I wasn't planning on writing this scene at all, just skipping to the next morning... but I couldn't get this out of my head! I hope you all enjoy it!

_His face was twisted into a grimace. Blue eyes – so familiar – stared at the bloody mass on the ground in pity. As if he had a right to feel anything about her, the gun in his hand still smoking in the aftermath of the bullet that changed everything._

_She was hiding, peeking through a secret sliver that gave her a front-row seat to the rest of her horror show life._

_Unless she ran._

_“That was unfortunate,” the man sighed, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his hands. As if that would get rid of the sin and gunshot residue. “I prefer other people to do my dirty work. But you were always the exception, weren’t you?”_

_He addressed the body on the floor. Felicity wanted to scream. Rage. Cry. Disappear._

_“Felicity will understand. She’ll see things my way, once I find her. She – ”_

“Felicity!”

Felicity sat up with a gasp, eyes wide without their usual barrier of glasses. Frantic milliseconds passed while she devoured every dark corner of the room, heart in her throat, only to settle with the realization – heralded by a rumble of thunder and flash of lightning – the sound had been Oliver.

But in her nightmare, it had been the echo of a gunshot. _The_ gunshot.

Confusion surfaced and passed as she observed the posh room around her, the events of last night filtering back: the storm. Oliver and Thea. Dinner.

Oliver. He was standing in the door, eyes wide and worried as he took in the sight of her. He answered her unasked question, “I heard you yelling. I’ve always been a light sleeper. Are you okay?”

Felicity’s heart still hammered in her chest as the adrenaline began to fade. She didn’t know what to say. Was there anything _to_ say? Oliver just stood there.

A quick check of her phone showed it was just after two in the morning. Even though she’d only been asleep a few hours, she made the quick judgment that she probably wasn’t going to be able to get any more. The nightmare was echoing in her head, filling the room like her mind.

Felicity lurched to her feet, hoping that distancing herself from the bed would push the nightmare further away. Oliver took a few steps into the room, hovering between politeness and worry. But this wasn’t the worst she’d ever woken from a nightmare, and she knew the panic and fear would fade. This wasn’t like the panic attacks she had in her early days on the road, freezing her throat and tongue and paralyzing her with burning terror.

“It’s no – ”

“Don’t say nothing,” Oliver insisted gently, all of him straining as if he wanted nothing more than to fill the space between them. “It’s not nothing. You were yelling about… your mom. I haven’t asked – ”

“And I appreciate that,” Felicity interjected. How much had she said in her sleep? “Especially since I don’t want to talk about it.” She tried to walk past him to leave the guest room, to go who knows where, but Oliver grabbed her upper arms in his hands. Not hard, but firm enough that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Let go, please,” Felicity grit out, glaring at him. Their faces were very close together. Oliver had never seen her without them, and though he looked a little fuzzy around the edges – astigmatism – without the barrier of her glasses between them, he was breathtaking even in her anger. It was almost overwhelming to see him so close. His hair stuck up like he’d run his hands through bedhead, and a thin, cotton tank top stretched across his torso and bared his arms to the world.

“ _Fe-li-ci-ty_ ,” Oliver said slowly, in a way no one ever had, bringing her back. The look on his face implied her thoughts hadn’t escaped her mind, but he wasn’t going to let this situation go. “I don’t want to pressure you, but I can put things together. You have nightmares. You showed up out of nowhere. I don’t know anything about you. Damn, I don’t even know your last name – ”

“What do you want from me, Oliver?” Felicity snapped, immediately defensive. “To bare my soul? I don’t want to talk about it. If I did, I would. Is that going to be a problem? Should I leave?”

“No, of course not! I’m just saying – ”

Felicity turned back into the room. It wasn’t the way Oliver was braced, so she slipped out of his hold and started gathering her things. “I’m not some charity case,” Felicity said, doing her best to keep her voice level. “There’s nothing here for you to fix. _I’m_ not here for you to fix. Some things happened to me. Are still happening. But I _don’t._ _Want_. _To talk about it_. If you or anyone else here was in danger, I’d leave before anything bad could happen and you’d never hear from me again. That’s all the assurance I can give. If you can’t live with that, if you keep pushing, then it’s time for me to go.”

“No, Felicity, no, no,” Oliver repeated, coming up behind her but not reaching out. Felicity straightened, his heat at her back from head to toe, her eyes fixed on the soaked window in front of them. The barest hint of them reflected in the surface. Their eyes locked through the rain – blue, half desperate for answers, half desperate not to reveal them.

“Would you really do that? Just leave?” Oliver’s tone was somehow delicate, at odds with the tall, broad, almost-man that completely encompassed her reflection.

She nodded – short and jerky. “If that’s what would be best.”

“You’re not a project, Felicity,” Oliver said, speaking low and clear. Like he didn’t want to be misunderstood. “I’ve never, for a second, thought of you as anything but yourself. I want to help you, but it’s because you’re my friend and I c-care about you.”

He stuttered. Oliver was always so steady. The glimpse of vulnerability, more than anything else, had Felicity leaning back into him. Just slightly. The hastily-fortified walls around her heart were melting.

“But I won’t push,” Oliver continued. “If you want to keep secrets, do it. I won’t bring it up again. But know, I’ll be here when you do want to talk.” A hand on her hip, warm and solid. Reassuring. Grounding. “Right here. I’m not going anywhere. And if you leave one day without saying goodbye… I’ll assume something bad happened to you. I’d have to find you to make sure. Promise you won’t do that?”

Felicity gazed at his reflection, so solid behind hers. As if he’d always been there. As if he’d never leave.

His reassurances were sweet, but Felicity knew her skills. If she didn’t want to be found, Oliver would never find a trace of her again. But his eyes were so wide, his expression to earnest, that she found herself nodding. Once, slow. “Promise.”

Even if she couldn’t trust him yet with her secrets – that unconscious _yet_ had her heart trilling for a potential where she could – she could trust him that far. He wouldn’t push her for her truths, and he’d be there if she wanted to reveal them. Which, despite the traitorous _yet_ , was still only an _if_. Felicity was used to keeping secrets, be they large or small.

But the second the stray thought of telling Oliver the truth crossed her mind, she remembered the bonfire. The news stories. The murders. Someone – she could guess who – was following her across the country, using any means necessary to find her. If she brought Oliver in, he’d be facing that. He might be tough, but he was just an eighteen-year-old high-school senior. She couldn’t pull him into her insanity.

She didn’t speak, but their reflections showed the truth. He saw her concession, however small, and matched it with a smile.

“Are you going back to sleep?” he asked. Neither of them moved, Felicity still reveling in the warmth of his hand.

She shook her head.

Oliver nodded and tightened his grip on her hip, just enough to make her turn around to him. “Come on, then. I’ll make you something to drink. Always helps Thea go back to sleep.”

“You don’t have to…” Felicity immediately protested, but the words died in her throat when Oliver took her hand and gave her a look.

“I’m not doing it because I have to,” he said quietly, leading her through the dark mansion. She shivered and walked a half-step closer to Oliver, intimidated by the massive house shrouded in shadow.

They returned to the massive kitchen. Oliver left Felicity to her own devices as he turned to the counter and began gathering ingredients. Instead of sitting far away at the table, Felicity jumped on the kitchen counter behind Oliver so she could stay nearby. The world outside the big windows was stormy black, interspersed with lightning, thunder, and moaning wind.

“So, what are you making me?” Felicity asked, tearing her eyes away from the windows. It was disconcerting to seem so on display. If anyone was outside, lurking in the dark, they would be able to see right inside. Instead, she decided to focus on Oliver’s back muscles moving under his tank top. Covering his arms should be a crime against humanity.

“A special hot chocolate with milk, dark, and white chocolate. I’m also adding some mint, since you like mint chocolate, and Baileys. I normally don’t put that in there for Thea, of course,” he said, tossing a sweet smile over his shoulder.

Felicity might have normally protested the liquor, but she still felt the occasional leftover tremor from her nightmare at the same time she felt a thrill that Oliver remember mint chocolate chip was her favorite ice cream flavor. “I think that’s just what the doctor ordered,” she murmured, smiling when Oliver looked back to her.

He finished the beverage quickly, adding a few dashes of different spices at such lightning speed Felicity couldn’t read them all. Before long, he was handing her a panda mug with one hand and holding a Star City Rockets mug in the other.

“The mug is Thea’s,” he said as she took her first sip. Her toes curled, eyes slid shut, and she couldn’t control the borderline-inappropriate groan that escaped her mouth. The Baileys added some more sweetness with just a hint of warmth to burn away the last of her nightmares.

“I don’t care whose mug it is.” Felicity’s eyes slid open. Oliver seemed frozen to the spot, his blue eyes wide as they stared at her mug. Or was he staring at her mouth? “It transported me to paradise. This is _so_ delicious.”

Oliver leaned against the counter next to her and they sipped their cocoa in the stormy quiet. His arm brushed against her leg, and she couldn’t repress a shiver.

“Are you cold?” Oliver asked, attentive as always. Felicity’s knee-jerk reaction was to tell the truth, but she didn’t want to explain why physical contact with him made her shiver. So, she had a crush. A probably-unrequited crush on a guy massively out of her league. No need to lose her head.

“Yeah,” she said, trying to hide the fact that the arm brush almost made her ovaries explode. _His arms felt so strong_. Frack, was she this starved for affection? She hadn’t been touched in any meaningful way since Vegas. Not just brief hugs or handshakes…

“Let’s go sit by the fire.” Oliver reached around her waist with his free arm and lifted her off the counter before setting her gently on the floor. Felicity froze at the contact, too many thoughts and sensations overriding her mind. His touch was static electricity, dancing along her skin like light, teasing fingers.

He started walking like he lifted unsuspecting girls off counters every day, and she had no choice but to follow. They ended up in a smaller sitting room with a less formal atmosphere than the ones at the front of the house. It had furniture that actually looked comfortable, books lining the shelves, and a massive fireplace.

Felicity was immediately drawn to the books. She hadn’t been able to bring any with her from Vegas – too heavy and not enough practical value. Her room there had been lined with books, one wall entirely from floor to ceiling. They’d been her friends when she was in school with kids three years older than her, and too awkward to understand she shouldn’t care what they thought. Stacks piled up around her bed and all over the apartment. Her mom had tripped over them frequently, always groaning about Felicity needing to clean up her messes. But Felicity knew Donna was happy her daughter was interested in something good for her, unlike the drugs and alcohol that ran rampant in Vegas city schools.

The memory of her mother hurt, like it always did. S hollow echo, emanating from her chest to encompass her whole body.

Desperate for a distraction, she turned away from the bookshelves and found Oliver crouched in front of a bright fire in the fireplace, stoking it. “Did you make that?” she asked, unable to control her mouth. Her eyes flickered to the log holder full of real wood next to the fireplace, a stand full of pokers, and crumpled up newspaper next to it.

Oliver nodded, replacing the poker and standing up. “I may not be the smartest kid in class, but I have practical skills,” he said with a smile, waving Felicity over to the couch. “I thought it would be nice to warm up here before we go back to bed.” An innuendo Felicity would’ve blushed and babbled at, but Oliver just spoke as if he was relaying the weather.

Felicity hurried over to the couch at the thought of having to return to her dark, unfamiliar room, as if the yawning emptiness was nipping at her heels. She sat a cushion away from Oliver, fighting the irrational urge to cuddle right up next to him. They were friends, but there wasn’t any need for that kind of behavior. She was fine. He probably valued his personal space, anyway.

They fell into a surprisingly easy conversation. But Felicity thought she might need to stop being surprised by how easy things were with Oliver.

He asked if she wanted a refill at some point, and she handed him her empty mug and widened her blue eyes pleadingly. She even asked if he’d put more Baileys in this time, which surprised them both. She was still too wound up, and hoped the extra liquor would incentivize her body to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day if she didn’t get any more rest, since she was supposed to close at Daily Grind.

Oliver came back, and they resumed their easy banter. It was one of those late-night conversations that seemed to take place between time, where nothing was off limits and every revelation carried the same weight. From Felicity’s accidental pot-brownie story to Oliver’s fear that he’d never be able to escape his last name and playboy past.

The spiked hot chocolate warmed Felicity from the inside, making her eyelids droop as she gazed at the fire and her babbles slowed. Which meant she was talking at about the pace of a normal person. Between a soft, open gesture and a weak will, Felicity found herself pressed against Oliver’s side with his arm slung around her shoulder.

“Are you tired yet?” Oliver asked, his voice quiet and comfortable like the crackling fire.

Felicity shook her head, opening eyes she hadn’t realized were closed. She didn’t want to go back to her dark, unfamiliar room full of gunshots and cruel blue eyes. Oliver laughed – low and warm. “Alright. We can stay down here a while longer.”

Felicity nodded this time, her eyes already sliding shut.

Between the warmth of the fire, the liquor, and Oliver, she felt truly safe for the first time in months. Not just since she left Vegas, but since _he_ came back into her life.

Batting away those thoughts – they would only bring nightmares – she settled more deeply into Oliver and the black wave of sleep took her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Love? Extra love? Those are the only two choices, obviously. Let me know in the comments! I thrive on validation, my friends. Don't we all?
> 
> Anyway, things are coming to a head! Maybe? I really don't have anything but a vague timeline for this story. Which is why updates take so long... and I'm awful. I'm trying to write a book in real life, my friends. Very time-consuming.
> 
> Come hang out with me while I procrastinate on Tumblr and Twitter! And feel free to drop me an ask there, if you'd like. I love chatting with Olicity fans! And just fans of anything I'm a fan of...
> 
> Tumblr: [@imusuallyobsessed](https://imusuallyobsessed.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@usuallyobsessed](https://twitter.com/usuallyobsessed)

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Leave me a comment and kudos here if you're so inclined (I thrive off validation from others), then head over to my [ Tumblr](https://imusuallyobsessed.tumblr.com/) and chat with me! I love hearing from you guys.


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